#whenever i see Mat fans

[crushmeeren]

Bakugou/Fem Reader/Kirishima

❥ All characters aged up/18+.

Master List Link

❥ Warnings; dirty talk, pussy eating, blowjobs, fingering, squirting, vaginal sex, Eijirou stuffs you ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

“Don’t be such a pussy. You know you can fucking do it, so do it.” Katsuki isn’t asking you. He’s demanding you. His jaw’s clenched tight and he speaks with a tone that says his patience is running thin.

Unfortunately for him, the harsh pep talk doesn’t quite motivate you the way he wants. You know it’s his way of being encouraging, but his efforts fall flat.

“Fuck off Kat.” It’s hard to speak when you’re panting so heavily. “God! I wish Ei was here,” you hiss crossly, gritting your teeth. Your sweat covered palms slip over your bare knees as you bend in half, desperately gulping down air, heart rate erratic.

Katsuki clicks his tongue behind his teeth, laughing. Which really sounds more like he’s mocking you as he taps his foot impatiently.

Clearly he’s not offended by your nasty comment.

“Why? So he can baby your ass?” He taunts meanly, lifting his chin up to stare down at you. He crosses his arms over his tank top covered chest, sitting up straight on the workout bench across from you as he stretches a leg out in front of himself. You throw an icy glare his way, choosing to ignore the jab for your own peace of mind.

Standing upright, you use the bottom of your muscle tank to wipe off the metric ton of sweat pouring down your face. The scent of your shirt is overwhelming and gross, causing your nose to wrinkle in distaste.

You’ve been at the gym with Katsuki for two hours. Two grueling, lactic acid filled hours.

The gym at Eijirou and Katsuki’s agency is relatively quiet and secluded, with all the equipment you could ever hope for. It’s a perfect place to focus on your lifting without distractions. So naturally, Katsuki woke up deciding today was the mother of all days to work on one rep maxes.

You’re both off work. Ei is out on patrol — so Katsuki can push, bully you into lifting as much weight as he wants. Which Katsuki swears it’s so you can’t run to Eijirou with “big ass doe eyes” and a pout whenever you get tired and want to go home.

So, here you are, stuck with Katsuki. He’s already hit a new PR and you’re working on yours. You’ve failed this weight three times already, and you could put your fist through the wall you’re so pissed off. Your glutes are on fire. Your hamstrings are on fire. Your lower back is on fucking fire.

Still, your boyfriend is ruthless. With his snarky attitude, it doesn’t take long for you to reach your boiling point.

“Kaaaat,” you whine, dragging out his name until he rolls his eyes. “I can’t do this today. Please, I just - I wanna go home. I wanna see Ei.” Tears of frustration start to sting and well up in your eyes and you sniff, adjusting the strap of your lifting belt tighter, avoiding Katsuki’s gaze.

An exasperated albeit fond sigh hits your ears. You take to fiddling with the hem of your stretchy biker shorts, irritated in your own lack of ability.

It sits in your chest like a lead balloon.

The bench protests as Katsuki rises from his seat, but you refuse to meet his gaze. Adamantly staring at a crack in the black mats that make up the floor, shifting from foot to foot.

You listen to his quiet footsteps approaching until suddenly black lifting shoes fill your vision.

Gently, a thumb and forefinger grip your chin. Katsuki tilts your head until you’re meeting his warm yet intense ruby red stare.

You deflate, becoming putty in his hold.

“Baby,” he begins, gruff voice infinitely softer now. “You are going to fucking lift this weight. You’re stronger than you know.” He’s overly confident, as normal.

Your lower lip wobbles, heat creeping up your neck and burrowing into your cheeks.

As infuriating as he can be, he’s no doubt your biggest supporter, fan, etc. Not counting Eijirou.

Katsuki’s unwavering belief in you sends goosebumps crawling up your sweat soaked arms. It ultimately convinces you to try again. You wrap your fingers around the wrist helping support your chin, feeling his steady pulse thudding.

“One more time and then we can go home?” You ask reluctantly. His lips curl into a smug grin realizing he’s won you over. Playfully, Katsuki shakes your head side to side, grip tightening on your chin.

“Yeah whatever,” he relents, rolling his eyes. “Ya know, if you hit this, I’ll give you a reward,” he says nonchalantly, trailing his hand down to snake around your throat with a barely there pressure.

“What kind of reward?” You eye him suspiciously. Although, you’d be remiss to deny the anticipation his words bring.

He leans into your personal space, smirking like the Cheshire cat. It gives you a close up of the golden brown freckles dusted across the bridge of his nose.

The air between you sparks dangerously. Warm like the left over embers of a bonfire.

“How bout, I eat that cunt till you’re squirting all over my face, yeah?” He purrs, squeezing your throat a bit harsher.

You grab his tank top with both hands, inhaling sharply. Katsuki’s tone of voice, his words - your entire body flashes hot within the second. “Oh?” You squeak out, trying to ground yourself while you’re this close to him.

Katsuki pushes in until his soft lips brush your ear lobe, tickling you pleasantly. He slips two fingers into the top of your lifting belt, tugging you to his chest.

“Fuck yes. I’ll get you so soft, so goddamn pliant, that Ei will just slip right into your pussy when he gets home,” he whispers huskily.

“Oh god,” you groan, letting your forehead thump onto his collar bone. You fist his shirt until your knuckles are white, a blistering heat gathering in your belly.

Katsuki snickers, placing a kiss to your jaw and pulling back to force your head up, leveling his gaze with yours. “C’mon baby, you know how much Ei loves that. So, why don’t you be a good girl, hit this lift and let me take your ass home.”

With that he’s gone. Leaving you to soak in the offer, causally making his way back to the bench. Your hands linger mid air where they held his tank top, blinking rapidly as you watch him — mind blown, shattered, melted.

He sends you a pointed look to say “hurry the hell up”, resting his left hand on the seat to hold his weight.

You breeze through your personal record the very next try.

One steamy, rushed shower later — you’re spread open wide, entirely bare and resting on your back. The cool sheets on your bed helping to soothe your sweltering skin.

You’re not alone. Katsuki’s naked too, comfortably laid out on his belly between your thighs. He’s lazily pumping two fingers in and out of your drooling pussy, paying close attention to the lewd way you suck him in. Your yearning, insatiable, cunt strangling every coherent thought from his head besides the stunning view in front of him.

Katsuki reaches up to take hold of your hand, lacing his fingers with yours. He runs his thumb over your palm, keeping your focus trained on him, and casually rests your conjoined hands on the mattress near your hip.

Your low moan pierces the air when Katsuki sinks his canines into the delicate skin on your inner thighs. He gazes up at you through long blonde lashes while he marks you with dark reddish purple hickeys all over.

They ache and sting, pulsating dully, each new bite causing your pussy to flutter. It steals your breath away, the way he’s taking you apart.

Yet, you’re getting restless, squirming in the blonde’s hold. By now you’ve already sent a salacious video of you deep throating Katsuki’s cock to the red head.

Drool and precum had been dripping down your chin, cheeks flushed and eyes half lidded for the camera as you dragged your lips up his cock. Katsuki’s rasping moans decorated the background, hips rolling shallowly to meet your mouth. The two of you obviously played it up, wanting to seduce Eijirou, to tempt him into getting home quicker.

You’re proud to admit it works almost too well.

He instantly replied he’d be home in 20 minutes. That was about 15 ish minutes ago. You’ve already been made to cum twice since then.

Katsuki had let his release spill down your throat right after he clicked send on the video. Now he’s currently inching you towards a third orgasm.

You’re aware Katsuki’s going to make you squirt this time. The slight fullness and pressure building in your bladder is a telling indicator.

He’s also trying to his damndest to stretch this out until Eijirou gets home, craving for the red head to be his captive audience. You share his desire, longing for your currently absent boyfriend to just be here already. You desperately want Eijirou to fold you into a pretzel.

Nevertheless, it’s exhilarating how sweetly Katsuki’s treating you for the time being. He’s normally a bit rougher so this tender side of his is turning you to a pile of mush.

Slim fingers curl up into your sweet spot, stroking it lovingly, and it sends a warm shiver snaking down your spine. Your back bows off the bed with something similar to a keen falling from your lips.

“Katsuki!” You cry out his name. It sounds as sinful as a curse and as holy as a prayer, free hand bunching the silky sheets up in pleasure, skull digging into the mattress below.

“Yeah that’s right. Your pussy feels fuckin’ amazing, doesn’t it princess?” He purrs, tone almost patronizing, but he can’t hide the underlying simmering heat coloring his voice. His soft lips plant a kiss over your swollen clit and your blood buzzes.

“So — ah! So f-fucking good Kat,” you babble, eyes falling shut. It’s irresistible, the pull you feel to roll your hips in time with his thrusts. You’re almost feverish from it all, cheeks so scalding steam may as well be rising from them.

You cling to Katsuki’s hand even more while he edges your orgasm to the surface, intermittently kitten licking your puffy clit. You tilt your head, glancing down at Katsuki with half lidded eyes, slack jawed. He keeps his leisure pace, stretching the rubber band of your climax to its limit.

The blonde’s expression mirrors yours. Dilated pupils, red blossoming brightly over his cheeks and down his throat — lids so heavy they’re almost closing.

His stare is laced with a rabid want that you recognize all too well, and the sight of him occasionally rocking his hips down into the mattress sets your nerve endings alight.

It’s obscene, the way he chases relief for his obviously aching, full cock, smearing precum along the sheets below. He never fails to become drenched when he’s so badly turned on.

You stare briefly at the ceiling, knowing it’ll be over immediately if you keep leering at him. You’re already on the cusp of cumming. The slow, sweet buildup of it making your heart pound brutally behind your rib cage.

Katsuki rips a high pitched wounded noise from your throat when he suckles on your clit again, your free hand darting out to tangle and twist his soft blonde hair.

A fresh wave of goosebumps light up over your arms, a thrill racing through you as he devours you. Instinctively you cross your ankles over Katsuki’s upper back, huffing as your tits heave with the rise and fall of your breath.

You try to warn him, open your mouth to tell him you’re about to cum — but you’re interrupted by your bedroom door swinging open.

Katsuki halts his movements, your orgasm fading into the background as both your heads snap towards the direction of the door. You don’t have time to be upset about it because finally your other boyfriend is home.

Eijirou stands there in street clothes, broad shoulders filling up most the doorframe. His red hair hangs loosely, framing his face. The ends are dripping, remnants of a quick shower he must have taken at the agency.

Eijirou wolf whistles. “Well damn! What did I do to deserve walking in on a sweet treat like this?” Eijirou teases, crossing his arms and leaning his shoulder on the doorframe.

“Ei! You’re ho—oh fuck!” You begin to greet him but cry out when Katsuki brushes the pads of his fingers over your g-spot intentionally, startling you.

You untangle yourself completely from the blonde, leaning up and bracing your weight on your elbows. You shove at the blonde’s shoulder with your heel, half heartedly scowling at him.

Katsuki snickers, pillowing his cheek on your squishy thigh and slyly looking over to Eijirou. He looks quite seductive, scarlet eyes full of mirth. Eijirou laughs delightedly at the playful display, the sides of his eyes crinkling when he beams at you both.

“Oi, quit fucking around Ei. Take your damn clothes off and get your ass over here.”

You smoothly join Katsuki in egging the other on. “Yeah Eijirou, been waiting a lifetime for you to come home. Katsuki wants to put on a show for you.”

Katsuki barks out a laugh, wanting to deny it, but he can’t.

“Okay! Okay, I’m hurrying,” Eijirou giggles, cheeks turning a soft peachy pink. He wastes no time disrobing, pulling down the zipper of his hoodie to reveal he’s wearing nothing underneath. Eijirou ignores the over the top catcalls you both throw his way, mumbling under his breath and pretending he doesn’t love it.

He sheds the jacket, dropping it carelessly to the floor as he makes his way to the side of the bed. He slips out of his sweats just as shamelessly.

You watch Eijirou’s already half hard cock twitch when you reach out for him. He eagerly accepts it, kneeling on the bed next to your head. You look up at him adoringly, lips turning up into a smile that makes the apples of your cheeks twinge.

“Hi Ei, we missed you,” you croon, affectionately squeezing his hand.

In response, he bends down to give you a sweet kiss in greeting. It’s brief, but makes you feel like you’re bathed in sunshine either way. He pulls back, a question clearly on his lips.

“Wanna sit in my lap baby? I’ll get the best view of you that way,” Eijirou offers, entirely serious. He shuffles until he can sit behind your head, bracing his back on pillows and the headboard.

“You don’t have to ask me twice.” You scoot backwards until you’re able to slot in between his wide spread thighs, resting your own sticky back along his chest. As you do so, Katsuki chases you, inching forward, never letting his fingers leave the searing heat of your pussy.

“Oh fuck,” you laugh breathlessly, taking note of their presence. You tighten around him greedily, desire burning you to ash.

“Oh princess, look at you. Even more fucking needy now that Ei is home,” Katsuki comments meanly, digging his thumb into your puffy clit as he settles in his new spot.

A weak yelp leaves you at how sharp the sensation becomes. You feel the rumble of Eijirou’s laughter as it vibrates throughout his chest.

“Maybe I just want to cum,” you chide him. “You’ve been edging me forever.”

Katsuki doesn’t respond, just grins like he’s won the lottery, a bit manic, and sets a borderline violent, relentless pace.

The howl you produce is ear splitting. The sudden dynamic shift begging your spine to bend but Eijirou quickly cages you in. He wraps his thick biceps around your stomach, hooking his chin into the muscle just behind your collarbone.

“Be good,” Eijirou warns. “You wanted this yeah? Then let Kat do what he wants.”

You scramble to lock onto his forearms, nails dragging angry lines over his skin. You obediently nod along with what he tells you, starting to get the impression your skin is too tight to fit over your bones.

Your body bounces in time with Katsuki’s motions and the razor sharp points of Eijirou’s teeth threaten to pierce the delicate flesh of your shoulder.

Mercifully, your orgasm comes on like a freight train. In less than a minute to be exact.

Katsuki bullies your g-spot with a precision only he could possess, flicking his tongue over your clit in a steady up and down rhythm. Pleasure pulses white hot in your pelvis, threatening to prickle out all over your waiting body.

“Oh. Oh, I’m gonna cum Kat! Ei, please, shit!” you curse, head spinning, not even sure what you’re begging them for.

“That’s it babygirl, we’ve got you,” Eijirou coos, tone a 180 from a couple minutes prior.

You’re wiggling in his iron clad grip, on the edge of exploding. One more push is all you need. The stifling heat of Katsuki’s mouth envelops your clit once more, sucking.

Your toes curl into the sheets, all the muscles in your lower half tensing as your climax rips you apart. You hold onto Eijirou’s forearms for dear life, molten lava gushing through your veins like a busted dam.

Katsuki pulls his mouth away with a wet pop, punishing you with each slippery glide of his fingers. You don’t think you can take much more, crossing into over sensitive territory. It doesn’t matter though, not with the looming pressure on your bladder giving without your permission.

“You’re so hot like this baby. Now fuckin’ squirt for me,” Katsuki snarls. Eijirou’s cock kicks where it’s trapped against your lower back.

It’s too easy to bend to his will.

You’re soaking the blonde’s chin and wrist before you know what’s happening, liquid running down to your ass. His head jerks back, briefly startled, before his eyes get wide. Katsuki slows, lolling his tongue out to lick his drenched lips for a taste. He moans, pink flush traveling down to his chest.

“No more,” you complain, hips stuttering as you push at his forehead. You try to catch your breath, coming down from the high and become boneless on Eijirou’s chest.

“Good job sweet girl, you did so well my love,” Eijirou murmurs in your ear. His breath tickles your cheek and you lean into him, letting the red head smooth his warm palm over your belly.

Katsuki slips his fingers free, biting the inside of his cheek when your pussy desperately tries to keep him from leaving you empty. He rises up, settling back on his calves, and admires how drenched his hand has become. He arches one pretty blonde eyebrow, smirking at his boyfriend.

“Want a taste of her Ei?” Katsuki teases, wiggling his fingers at the red head. Eijirou hums his agreement and Katsuki surges forward over you, dangling his dripping hand in front of Eijirou.

Katsuki’s cock, hot and heavy, brushes your lower belly. God, you just want to drag him down by his slim hips, flip him over and ride him until he sees stars.

But you don’t.

The deep seated desire for Eijirou to fold you in half wins out. You tilt your head up just in time to witness Eijirou’s pink tongue dart out for a taste. He trails his tongue up Katsuki’s fingers, dipping into the grooves between. You shudder, simultaneously moaning with the blonde.

“Ei,” you interject brokenly. “I need you to fuck me, now please.”

Eijirou’s boner jumps against your lower back. “I can totally do that,” Eijirou responds, playfully pushing at your back. You laugh, looking up at Katsuki expectantly as he continues to hover over you.

“Yeah whatever I just wanna watch Ei fuck you silly,” he says with a wink. You swallow and it’s like your throat’s been lined with cotton balls. Katsuki retreats, loosely circling his fingers at the base of his cock and squeezing for some relief.

“C’mon Ei, I’ve been waiting for you all day,” you giggle, sliding down until you’re flat on your back again. You plant your feet on the bed, allowing your legs to fall open as wide as they’ll go.

“I won’t make you wait any longer baby,” Eijirou assures. He crawls down as Katsuki moves upwards, effortlessly switching places. Katsuki’s knees bracket your head as he maneuvers until he’s comfortable. If you glance backwards you’ll be met with the view of the blonde’s cock and his partially obscured face.

“Ready pretty girl?” Eijirou paws at the squishy spots of your thighs, inching close enough until he can part the lips of your pussy with his shaft. The pink head bumps teasingly into your clit, a jolt of pleasure startling you. You nod eagerly and bite into your lower lip.

Eijirou uses his thumb to angle his cock down to where your warmth waits to greet him, to suck him in like a vice. To clamp down around him until his brain is fuzzy.

He barely dips the head of his cock in once, twice — before finally applying enough pressure his tip fully pops in. The initial stretch makes you shiver, and as he fills you with the rest of his cock, you start to tremble.

Your pussy doesn’t offer even a hint of resistance.

You wheeze out his name when he bottoms out. Eijirou’s blunt nails leave indentations on the backs of your thighs as he pushes them a bit more towards your chest. His grip is bruising, licking his lips as he concentrates on being still so you can adjust.

You look down to where you’re connected, fists clenched in the sheets by your sides and your pelvis throbs briefly from just how big his cock is. Eijirou grabs your attention with a strangled sound, and your gaze flickers to his impatient expression. You nod, giving him the go ahead.

He runs with it, proceeding to carve out a space inside you just for himself. Glazed over eyes flutter briefly as your pussy pulses, choking his cock, and his lips part slightly, eyes glued to where you’re swallowing him. Eijirou rolls his hips, pulling back and thrusting in with a singular fluid motion, slowly working up to a rougher, faster pace.

Katsuki curses from somewhere behind you, voice low and ragged as he tells you just how “fucking pretty” you look taking Ei’s cock. You echo the sentiment, praising the red head as he shifts around on his knees and thrusts harder.

Eijirou whimpers, taking your ankles and lifting until your knees hook over his shoulders. He bends you in half, placing his hands by your head. A moan is punched out of your chest and you grasp as his shoulders, the jarring sensation of feeling like his cock is in your belly making you whine.

“Eijirou, holy shit! Please — don’t stop!” you beg, voice edging on a sob. Katsuki hisses in pleasure behind you, the slick, wet sound of him jerking his cock burns your ears.

“Anything baby, whatever you want,” Eijirou says with a breathy sigh, fucking you hard enough to bounce your body with each thrust. The smack of his skin against yours spurs him on even further.

Your pussy chases his cock every time he pulls back, not letting him go for a second. He fucks you until you feel high, and when you get impossibly tighter — he knows you’re cumming.

Eijirou talks you through it, because of course he does. He drags out your orgasm as long as he can, a drop of sweat falling from the tip of his nose into the valley between your tits. He admires the way your body releases all its tension as you come down from the high.

“Good girl, you cum so beautifully for me,” Eijirou praises. “I’m gonna cum inside you okay?” He’s panting as he moves, clearly hanging on by a thread.

“Cum for me Ei,” you murmur, trailing your hands up and wrapping your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck.

Eijirou moans as you pull him down into a hungry kiss, attempting to eat him alive. He whimpers into your mouth, shoving his cock to the hilt in your pussy, and a new warmth blooms inside you as your boyfriend cums.

Eijirou wrenches his mouth from yours to gasp, jaw falling open as he rides out the last few pulses of his orgasm. A high pitched whine slices through the gooey atmosphere and you look backwards to witness Katsuki’s gorgeous face as he reaches his high.

His eyes pinch shut, the muscles of his neck straining as he tosses his head back on the headboard with a thump. He traps the tip of his tongue between his teeth, partially muffling the next moan he can’t control.

Eijirou hisses when your pussy involuntarily flutters around him, staring at the blonde squirming with pleasure. Katsuki’s shoulders drop as he relaxes, chest heaving. His stomach is covered in cum, as is his chest. There’s even some on his cheek.

Reluctantly, your attention snaps back to Eijirou when he gingerly pulls his softening cock free. Taking a moment to track the way his release sluggishly flows from you.

“Enjoying the view?”

Eijirou glances at you in surprise, rubbing the back of his neck with a nervous laugh. “I always do baby,” he coos.

“Fucking sap,” Katsuki snorts.

“Hey!” Eijirou protests. You laugh, reaching backwards to slap Katsuki’s ankle.

“Don’t listen to him Ei, he’s just as bad.” Playful banter consumes the three of you as you enjoy the relaxed atmosphere.

Eventually, you manage to clean yourselves up. You and Eijirou easily convince Katsuki to cook and fill your bellies with food. While you wait, you sit at island in your kitchen, happily retelling Eijirou how you got a new PR today at the gym.

You don’t leave out the way Katsuki used dirty tricks and promises of sex to persuade you, which makes Eijirou laugh loudly.

Katsuki just raises his middle finger over his shoulder in return, taking all the credit for your lift either way.

[queen-of-the-avengers]

Finally Free

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.8k

Warnings: angst, bucky being abused (implicit), auctioned and sold, nightmares

Summary: Bucky was ripped from your arms and taken by Zemo, and you vowed to spend every waking hour trying to get him back. You have tried for over a year, and your time has finally come when Hydra is auctioning off all the super soldiers for profit. This ends with you.

Squares Filled: vibranium (2023) for @buckybarnesbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are greatly appreciated <3

x

Bucky is dying. You run as fast as you can to get to him but it’s like you’re on a treadmill. You can run as fast as you can but you’re not going to get to him in time. Bucky is getting beaten by men, taking every single blow as if he deserves it. He reaches out for you and you run faster if it’s possible. One of the men takes a knife and shoves it deep into his chest, piercing his heart.

“BUCKY!” you gasp awake.

You look around the dark room and realize you’re just having another nightmare. The fan spins above you but it’s not enough to cool your sweaty skin. The sheets are dark with sweat, your heart races a million miles a second, and tears roll down your cheeks on another failed day of bringing the love of your life back home.

Everyone hears your screams for Bucky but no one ever brings it up. There’s no need when they can’t do anything about it. They’re trying but it seems like all of your efforts aren't enough. The government wants him back just as much as you do but they can’t get to him in time whenever he does pop up. No, the only way you’re going to save Bucky is if you do it yourself. You have the resources, it’s time to put them to good use.

Since you can’t bear to be at home knowing Bucky isn’t going to be there, you’ve been sleeping at headquarters. It’s not ideal but you refuse to sleep in the bed if Bucky isn’t going to be there. You brush your teeth and run your hands through your hair to make it look less matted before smoothing out the wrinkles in your clothes. You haven’t had time to go back to your place and grab more clothes. Not that it matters anyway. You’re not going to rest until Bucky is back home.

Headquarters is running smoothly with everyone running around working endlessly. Most everyone is working on computers while agents run back and forth with paper files in their hands. Some see you and immediately shy away from your gaze which you can understand. Since Bucky was taken, you've been a shell of the person you were before.

Normally, you’re such a sweet yet confident woman who knows what she wants. You have to have thick skin in your line of business but you don’t let it change you into someone you’re not… Not until Bucky was taken.

“Have you found him yet?” you ask one of your trusted employees.

“Yeah, it looks like they took him to a secure facility in Siberia. According to our motion sensor cameras, they haven’t left.”

“Is there any way in?”

“Not in the way you want. This place is their home base. There is no way of getting in without a hoard of guards up your ass. You’d barely get in ten feet before either being killed or captured.”

“Shit,” you mutter.

“I might have your way in.” You leave Sebastian’s side and walk over to Jeffrey who is on another set of computers. “Through connections of the dark web, I got us invited to an exclusive auction in Egypt. He’ll be there.”

“How do you know?”

Jeffrey shifts in his seat uncomfortably. “They’re auctioning off all the super soldiers.”

Your heart twinges in pain. Bucky is over there right now suffering at the hands of Zemo no doubt.

“You got me in?”

“Already done. All you have to do is show up.”

You turn to address the entire room. “Alright, listen up. I need to know everything about that auction house--all of its exits and entrances, camera placement, and everything about their guards and their schedules. Do not leave anything out.”

Everyone gets to work immediately, and you turn to the big screen which has Bucky’s picture on it.

I’m coming for you, baby.

You and Bucky are the ones who started Winters, a company dedicated to infiltrating organized crime that specializes in black market trafficking whether that be for organs, sex, torture, and everything else under the moon. You two have saved many men, women, and children across the globe. When your business got to be too much, you hired men and women who had skills in order to help the business.

After rescuing people, you send them to your many anonymous safe houses located across the world. They are so off the grid that no one in the black market will ever find them. If they do, there are guards and procedures to deal with outside threats. When the victims are ready to move on, they are free to leave and return if they feel the need to.

While doing this, you have built such a highly respected persona so you can get in just about anywhere and buy just about anything, all without raising concerns.

Bucky was taken from your arms, and you screamed to him that you’d find him no matter how long it took. It’s been a year since that happened but you’re not giving up now. Not when you feel like you’re so close.

Cairo is such a beautiful city that you often enjoy but this is a business trip, not a pleasure one. You’re in your hotel room getting ready for the event, and you swipe your deep red lipstick over your lips. You grab the masquerade mask that only fits half your face, shielding the upper portion of your face so that only your lips are shown. If you want to continue your business, you have to keep your identity a secret. The only thing people know about you is your bright red lips. The mask on your face is solid black but has a lacy exterior to give it more of a mysterious vibe.

You grab the small earpiece that will remain hidden inside, and you’ll use your hair to cover your ear to conceal it even further. Please let Bucky be okay. It took a long time to fix what they broke.

“Jameson, do you copy?”

“Copy.”

“Alexander?”

“Copy.”

“Jeffrey, do you have eyes on the cameras?”

“I have eyes on the sky. Don’t worry. You’ll know about a problem before there is one.”

You continue down the line until you get through everyone confirming that their earpiece is working and online. Once you’re ready, you leave the hotel room and ride the elevator down to the lobby. There is a car waiting for you where Alexander and Jameson are. They’re your trusted bodyguards that Bucky entrusted with your life when he can’t do the job himself.

Alexander opens the door of the town car for you, and you slide in with both of them in tow. The ride to the auction house is short but filled with so much tension. No words are said because there is nothing anyone can say that can make you feel better.

When the car pulls up to the auction house, Alexander and Jameson get out first before you do. You walk to the front door to check in which goes without issue. The next step is the metal detectors, and your bodyguards are forced to leave their weapons behind that they can pick up when they leave. This is a weapon-free event except for the staff. It’s to ensure everything goes as smoothly as possible.

You comply and are let into the main room where the guests are mingling. There are servers passing around champagne flutes as if this is a morning brunch instead of a highly illegal auction. You look at Jameson and he bends slightly so that your mouth is next to his ear.

“Make sure the exits are clear. I don’t want any issues.”

“You got it, boss.”

You grab a champagne flute with no intention of drinking it, and you stay close to the walls so that you can observe everything and everyone.

“If it isn’t the elusive Vixen. A pleasure to meet you.”

You look to the right and see the man responsible for Bucky’s demise. Zemo. Your blood boils inside your body. You want to strangle him for taking Bucky away from you. It’s a good thing your mask covers your eyes entirely otherwise he’d see the deadly glare you’re giving him.

“Keep your cool, Y/N. You’re so close. I know you want revenge but wait until Bucky is back,” Jeffrey says over comms.

He’s right. No good will come from attacking now when you don’t know for sure that Bucky is here. You need to see him for yourself.

“When I heard you were coming, I had to see you for myself,” Zemo continues. “I have something I think you might be interested in.”

“It better be worth it. You know I hate wasting my time.”

“It will be,” he winks. “I hope you have a good time at the auction.”

You and Alexander find your seats just as everyone else does. You’re holding a sign with your number on it so that if you raise it, the auctioneer will know who to put down if you were to win. Zemo walks on stage and introduces himself to everyone before getting started. A very short woman walks on stage and stands next to Zemo, just another super soldier for people to toy with.

“Let me introduce Exhibit A. Don’t let her small stature fool you. She is highly trained to infiltrate and destabilize any network from within. With a kill count of over a thousand, she won’t hesitate to get the job done. Her most significant kill is Osama bin Laden. As you can see, no organization is too complicated for her. Bids start at one million dollars.”

Almost everyone puts their sign up, signaling to Zemo that they’re all interested in buying her. You keep your sign down, only interested in one soldier. As Zemo ups the price, more and more signs go down until there is only one left.

“Sold to Number 57.” The woman is escorted off the stage only for a tall and muscular man to take her place. “Exhibit B…”

As far as you know, there are ten super soldiers that Hydra experimented with when they had Bucky under their control. When their most prized possession was free, they must have made more because Zemo auctions off twenty skilled and highly dangerous super soldiers. Each one that comes on stage brings your heart closer to your stomach when you realize none of them are Bucky. Jeffrey must be able to read your thoughts because his voice chimes in your ear.

“I know he’s here, Y/N. Just keep doing what you’re doing. I have Sebastian and Ricardo scouring the place looking for him. Don’t worry, they won’t get caught. I know how to keep my men hidden.”

You’re so lucky to have someone like Jeffrey on your side. He has never failed you before. When he says he is going to do something, he gets that shit done. Zemo finishes with the twenty-fifth and final soldier before announcing the end of the auction.

“Thank you all for attending. Buyers, please see my associates to arrange transportation for your purchases.”

You get up and place your sign on the seat just like everyone else did. Zemo almost trips coming down the stairs just to get to you.

“I have to say, Zemo, I’m disappointed in your selection.”

“I was saving the best for last. Only the most elite are able to bid on him, with you being first, of course. Follow me.”

You and Alexander follow Zemo to a hidden room in the back where even more guards and twice that of weapons are. This auction is good for more than just super soldiers, but this auction tonight was just to showcase them. To think these people are going to be roaming the Earth tomorrow for nefarious reasons makes your skin crawl, but you suspect Jeffrey has men already taking care of it.

No one is going to be taking home a super soldier but you.

Two men step out of the way and your eyes land on Bucky who has a stoic look on his face. Even though he isn’t saying anything, you can see the emotion in his eyes. He wants to cry. He wants to fight back. Wakanda got rid of the trigger words that were stuck inside his brain, but you have a feeling Zemo has been trying to implement new ones into his mind.

Over your fucking dead body.

“Allow me to introduce the Winter Soldier himself. Was taken by Hydra in the 1940s where he was molded to fit our needs and turned into one of the most dangerous and highly skilled assassins this world has ever seen. With just the right price, he can kill anyone with such precision that no one will ever know he was there, has stamina that lasts days or even weeks depending on how hard you push him, and not to mention this beauty.”

Zemo grabs Bucky’s metal arm and slides the sleeve up to show off the cool metal.

“A pure vibranium arm out of Wakanda itself. That adds extra muscle to all of your needs. I’ll give you to him along with the code words to control him, of course. He will do anything you want. Unfortunately, since he is like a shiny new toy, the starting bid is at twenty million dollars.”

“I’ll give you one hundred million.” Zemo looks shocked and drops Bucky’s arm. “I do not want anyone else having him. One of my guards is handling the payment as we speak. Do I make myself clear?”

“Crystal. I will tell the other bidders that he is no longer on the market.” Zemo nods to one of his henchmen who leaves the room. “I can have transportation arranged in any way that you like.”

You step forward and look at Bucky even though he can’t see your eyes.

“You are going to be my new favorite toy.” Of course, he doesn’t answer. It breaks your heart knowing he wants to cry. That’s a good thing in its own perverted way. They haven’t completely broken him if he wants to cry. “I’d like to take him off your hands if that’s okay. I like to deal with them in my own way, so I won’t be needing your transportation.”

“I understand,” he nods.

Alexander takes the lead and you make sure to place Bucky between you and him so that no one else gets any ideas. Instead of Alexander taking the normal way out, he turns and heads toward Jameson who has cleared the way. Once you’re out of the main room, you feel that you’re free to talk.

“Make sure Zemo doesn’t see a penny of my money,” you say to Jeffrey.

“Don’t worry, he won’t see a single one. You’re still in the blind spots of the cameras, but you’ve got maybe ten minutes before they reboot.”

“I only need five.”

Alexander meets Jameson at the very back who leads the group to the car waiting for you at the back. You open the back door and usher Bucky into the back of the car. Alexander is next but Jameson stays where he is.

“Make sure we’re not followed. Get out as soon as you can.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

You get into the car and it speeds off before you can shut the door. Bucky looks around in confusion because he has never been transported in a town car before. It’s usually on ice and in a wooden box.

“Where are we going?” he asks apprehensively. Once you know it’s safe to do so, you take off your mask, revealing yourself to Bucky. “Y/N?”

“I told you I’d come for you, baby. I’m here. You’re safe now.”

Bucky doesn’t care if Alexander is in the back with you, he breaks down in tears. Alexander and Jameson started working for you after Bucky was captured so he doesn’t know who they are. You take off your seatbelt and slide closer to Bucky to hold him close to you. He buries his face in the crook of your neck and cries, mostly for his freedom.

“No one is going to hurt you again,” you promise.

Alexander takes out his phone to call Jameson but you don’t listen to a word he says. All you care about is Bucky and how he’s back in your arms.

“I tried so hard to be brave for you,” his voice cracks.

“It’s okay, Bucky. You don’t have to be brave anymore. I will make sure Zemo never finds you again. I’ll erase whatever shit he put in your head a second time. I know how to do it now.”

Bucky pulls back only to press his lips to yours. He is safe because of you. You vow that you won’t have any more nightmares of Bucky dying because he’s not. He’s back home where he’s going to stay for good.

x

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[saekkas]

Hi hi 9+10 with Kaiser pls ly mwah!

prompt: "you're like a grumpy cat but cuddly. you hiss whenever someone comes close to me too." tags: fluffy kaiser, cuddly kaiser, moody kaiser, annoying kaiser. note: spreading the kitty kaiser agenda, i see. i like the way you think, anon! also, someone else already sent in an ask for prompt 9 so i hope you can forgive me for this being just 10.

kaiser doesn't know how it started.

one day he's on a press tour, high on the compliments thrown at him by his fans. the next, he's being cursed at for knocking into you, obviously a sae fan with the player's jersey hanging off your body.

he remembers the day the two of you fought, on your first meeting no less, scowling and spitting insults at each other so much security had to intervene.

he can't believe it's been six months since that incident. most importantly, he can't believe you've managed to have him wrapped around your finger since.

it was supposed to be the other way around!

"what is wrong with you today?" you laugh as kaiser curls around you, planting himself on your lap. "god's chosen emperor in a bad mood?"

"shut up," he grumbles, situating himself until he's face down on your lap. "and don't move. i'm too comfortable."

you roll your eyes, huffing at his dramatics. you look down at him, watching his body relax into your hold. he's only just gotten home from practice, hair still matted with sweat, and jersey still clinging onto his body.

ness had called you two hours after kaiser had left for practice, claiming that your pouty baby of a boyfriend had been in a mood. when you came to see his tantrum with your own two eyes, he insisted you drive him back home.

now here he is, cuddled up and cozy in your lap, clearly trying to fight off whatever is on his mind. he's been odd lately, clingier and needier than he's ever let himself be around you.

you shift, trying to get comfortable with the weight of his body slumped on you.

"hey!" kaiser turns onto his side, glaring. "quit moving!"

you snort, rolling your eyes at his look. he may look grumpy and serious, but you don't miss the twitching of his lips. your boyfriend's nothing but a drama queen and you know that this is just another one of his antics.

"your head's pretty heavy, babe," you say, nonchalant as he makes his way back onto your lap. only to freeze at your next words, "isagi's right. we should try shrinking it before you get stuck somewhere."

he pretends to scowl, his pretty features scrunching up. his eyes are bright and before you know it, there's a grin on his face and he's chucking a pillow at your face.

"how dare you," you gasp, flinging the same pillow back. you huff when he catches it easily with one hand. "now that's just unfair."

his eyes glint and you can only shriek as he leaps, playfully pinning you down. he looks happy as he straddles you, keeping his weight on his legs. he leans down, happily nuzzling his nose agaisnt yours.

he practically purrs, the sound coming deep from his chest when you stroke a hand down his back.

"okay, kitty," you laugh when he completely flops down, smothering you with his weight. "spill the beans. you're acting like a grumpy cat but cuddly. you hissed at ness when he came close to me too."

"i like you, a lot."

his words stop there, and you quirk an eyebrow, nudging for him to finish his sentence. when he doesn't, you sigh, placing a sweet kiss on his nose. "we've been dating for four months. it'd be weird if you didn't like me."

"well, i wasn't supposed to like you this much," he whines, pouting at you with wide eyes. his words are playful, but they have an underlying tone of vulnerability, one you open your heart to. "you were supposed to be a one-time date. now i feel like proposing every time we kiss."

your heart beats faster, your eyes taking in the loving warmth he holds in his. "mihya, i-"

"and honestly? i'm disappointed in myself. you're a sae stan. your taste is horrible."

you watch, your jaw dropping at the absurdity of his words. you must've been crazy to think he'd actually confess his darkest secrets. lifting an arm, you put your strength into your hand, smacking him with the pillow hard.

you scoff when he cackles, lifting himself off of you and dashing away into the kitchen like a maniac.

"michael come back here or so help me god, i will put black hair dye in your shampoo!"

you end up spending your whole afternoon chasing him around the house. it's worth it when you finally pin him down on the bed, your face sporting matching grins.

[the-kr8tor]

Heatwave

Feat: The cats 😺😻😾

Pairing: Hobie Brown x gn! Reader/ Spider-Punk x gn! Reader

Word count: 1.7k

Synopsis: You and Hobie try to survive a record breaking heatwave.

Tags: no use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, established relationship, some miscommunication, FLUFF, lovestruck Hobie.

A continuation of this fic

My Masterlist

*I don't consent to having my work translated/ published on other platforms*

You groan loudly, as if it helps make the air cooler, but alas it doesn't work that way. It certainly doesn't help that the air-conditioning in your building completely fizzled out last night, resulting in you and Hobie waking up sweaty and grumpy.

You breathe heavily through the humidity, but the sweltering heat doesn't make it any easier.

The cats don't help too, especially that they're currently blocking the air flow from your single working fan. Crumpet,Teacup and Crowley lay sprawled across a cooling mat, Crowley looks back at you every minute or so, checking to see if you've melted into a puddle.

Teacup, the ever spoiled baby, mewls towards you, as if to say it's time for their hourly wipe of their paws with a cold damp cloth. She's lucky you love her. She's been relishing the attention lately, especially time spent with Hobie, you can't help but get jealous sometimes, this is what Hobie probably feels like with Crowley attached to your hip.

You reluctantly stand up, stretching to your full height, arms wide, you cringe at the sweat clinging to your back, arms, legs and clothes, it's safe to say you're covered in it. You grimace at how tacky your clothes feel on you, your tank top must look like an abstract painting from behind. You lick your lips in a futile attempt to keep them moist, feeling the cracks of skin underneath your tongue.

You grab the designated cloth to soak it in the sink, at the same time you open the fridge to grab another ice pack. Thank goodness you have a stock of them for whenever Hobie comes home bruised. You wish you don't have an abundance of it though, you hate it when Hobie gets hurt.

Teacup meows loudly, telling you to hurry up.

"Alright, alright! 'm coming, you big baby" not noticing your words slurring together. You lift up the cloth, wringing off the excess water.

You stride towards the cats, carefully patting the cloth on their paws, while checking their fur for any tangles. Making sure their water bowls aren't empty.

After rubbing their paws you move to pet Crumpet, moving your fingers on her head, and scratching behind her ear. She purrs under your touch.

You're concerned about Crumpet, she's a lot older than the other two, so you're taking more time to be more attentive towards her.

You rub her thick fur absentmindedly, the air from the fan blowing on your lashes. Your mind wanders back to Hobie, how is he faring in this temperature? Especially in his suit, you practically had to beg him to leave his leather vest at home.

"I always wear it, love, I don't feel complete without it"

"Yeah, I know for the aesthetic," you change your tone, you don't want to fight, "but damn it, just for today please, I don't want you getting heatstroke" you sigh at his stubbornness.

For added effect Crumpet meows at Hobie, backing you up.

Hobie sighs in defeat, "fine," he drops the vest haphazardly over your bed, you think he's mad.

He leans over kissing your cheek, it's too hot to give you a proper kiss, you curse at the temperature, depriving you of affection. "don't forget to drink water, yeah?"

"Mmhm, you too. Take breaks, okay?" you move to hug him, but you recoil your hands back, thinking the added heat might make him more agitated. Hobie thinks you're mad at him.

You wanted to convince him to leave his leather boots and wear his trainers instead, but it might've been all in vain, since he's already opening the window to swing away.

That was hours ago, you hope he's okay, and keeping hydrated. You wish he wasn't mad at you.

Putting the ice pack on your head, you lean against your sofa, watching the cats stay cool.

You zone out, not hearing the familiar thump of heavy boots.

Hobie thinks you're ignoring him, shit you look mad, your face scrunched up into a scowl, sweat dripping on your forehead.

He crosses the small distance, the cats lay sprawled on their mat, the only indication that they noticed him is their heads slightly following his movements, even Crowley refuses to scowl at him. It's hot even for the little hell spawn.

Hobie grabs the cool can inside his little plastic bag, it rustles, but you still haven't looked at him. Fuck he should've kissed you goodbye better.

You feel the cold can on your cheek, waking you up from your daze. You feel sluggish. Craning your neck towards Hobie, you give him a small smile.

"Hey, you're home, early" your eyes slightly glossy.

"Yeah, even villains are too hot to commit crime" he notices your eyes, "when did you last drink water?"

You grab the cold can of soda from his hands, your hands shake trying to open the lid. "Um, I'm about to drink now"

"Shit, sweetheart, that's not enough" he grabs the can from your hands, earning a small "hey" from you. "Let me get you some water, yeah?"

Hobie rushes towards the kitchen, shit how long have you last drank? You must've been too busy taking care of the cats that you forgot about yourself. He doesn't blame you though, those cats are your family. He should've checked in on you on one of his breaks.

Glass in hand, he webs himself towards the living room, so he can get to you faster. You hate it when Hobie leaves his webs inside, but he'll apologize and clean it up later.

Hobie brings the cold glass to your chapped lips, you empty it in a flash, water drips from your chin, he wipes it with his thumb.

"There, you're gonna feel better in a minute" he sighs when color comes back to your lips.

"Can I have the soda now?" You tilt your head prettily.

Hobie opens the can for you before giving it back, "lemme change and I'll get you another glass, yeah?" He rubs the sweat clinging on to your eyebrows, messing up the strands. He chuckles at your unruly brows.

"What's so funny?" You pout against the mouth of the can.

"Nothing" he pecks your forehead, ignoring the sweat. That kiss will have to do for now, he has to make up a lot of kisses for the lack of love he gave you that morning.

Hobie basically tears his suit off him, sweat clings inside, he should shower. He should also try and fix your aircon, but he doesn't want to leave your side, you were on the brink of heat stroke when he arrived, Hobie needs to watch over you till you're better, and the cats need attention too, he still hasn't won over Crowley yet. He's made it his personal mission since he met the rascal.

Crowley settles next to you, the fog clouding your mind slowly dissipating. You sigh with your eyes closed.

"Oi no sleeping" Hobie places another cold glass in your hands in exchange for the soda. He's now wearing an old band shirt that he's kept at your place. Hobie doesn't have shorts, so he just went for his boxers.

He sits next to you, with Crowley in between. Hobie stretched his legs in front of him, his toned legs in full display.

"Here," Hobie hands you a fresh cloth "nevermind c'mere" you happily lean towards him, "you need to take care of yourself too y'know" He dabs the cloth on your neck, drying it.

"I know," you sigh "I was just worried about the cats and you, it must've been hard being in that heat all day"

He hums too engrossed in wiping you dry. You take this as Hobie still being angry at you.

"Are you still mad at me?" You ask in a small voice. wringing your hands anxiously.

"What?" He stops his movements, "I thought you were the one who's angry" he grabs your hands, smoothing the skin with his thumbs, trying to calm your thoughts. "Why would I be mad?"

"Because of the vest thing" you look up at him through your lashes. "I thought, you might've looked at it like I'm trying to change you, I'm not, I like you just the way you are"

Crowley watches the scene with pensive eyes. Crumpet sneezes in her sleep, while teacup curls near Hobie's foot.

"I'm not mad about that, I understand you were looking out for me, and I was too bloody stubborn" he kisses each of your knuckles, his warm breath calms your nerves. You know he isn't good with his words, sometimes opting for showing what he means through his actions.

" 'm not mad either, I shouldn't have pushed you" you lay your head against the couch cushion.

"Nah, I want you to make me, you keep me in line, love. You're right I would've gotten heatstroke with it on" he softly lays your hands on Crowley, he returns to his previous action, wiping at the soft skin on your hip.

"Imagine, I fainted while swinging" he jokes but you glare at him.

"Not funny, Hobart"

"Now, you're mad" He chuckles as he moves the cloth over your nose.

"Augh!" You swat at the piece of wet cloth "that's disgusting!"

"It's your own sweat, lovey" Hobie smiles lopsidedly.

"Next time, wear your trainers instead of boots too?" You ask shyly.

"Alright, for you, yeah"

You nod, finally convincing him "you took care of yourself out there?" You cup his jaw, making circular patterns over his skin with your thumb.

"Yeah, took breaks, hydrated, can't say the same thing for you though"

"I know, I'll do better next time" you sigh, thumping your head on his shoulder.

"Oi" he shakes you with his shoulder "I still owe you that kiss"

You laugh, Crowley perks up at the sound "and I still owe you a hug"

"What are you waiting for? Come up here and get it" a smile creeping on the corner of his lips.

You lean up, head staying on his shoulder, Hobie does all the work, he cranes his neck down as he holds the back of your head, guiding you towards his lips. You sigh into his lips, ignoring the sweat forming on his upper lip.

You cling on to his shirt, slowly moving your arms around him, he kisses deeper.

By some sort of miracle the aircon comes to life, blowing much needed cold air into your flat. You both decide to ignore it, while you climb on his lap, so his neck wouldn't strain. He holds your back, anchoring you.

Crowley meows at the both of you trying to get your attention away from Hobie.

A/N: thanks for reading! Hope you liked it! Likes and reblogs are always appreciated ❤️❤️❤️

*picture above is from pinterest*

My requests are open! Check out my rules.

[r0-boat]

Games with random play siblings

Wise

Wise it's Good at board games and card games like very good. Like used to be heavy Yu-Gi-Oh Super Fan good (still a Yu-Gi-Oh fan) He doesn't have classic board games either He has a lot of weird board games that you've never heard of before. And he has a whole shelf full of them.

The first thing he does when the two of you open up a board game with a bunch of friends is he will read the rules. And mans reads the rules like he's reading a math textbook an instantly becomes a pro. Then he teaches everyone else at the table.

He loves video games too He has a big ass PC if it's not for work it's for games. However He likes survival or tactical RPG games the best.

He really wants to like horror and he tries really hard but he cannot sit through games with gore or anything involving.

Has been trying to learn D&D recently thinks it would be really cool to host d&d nights at Random Play but decides against it because he doesn't want to deal with the consequences.

Wise has a dark secret. He plays Otome dating Sim games He has a few on his phone. He's also the type too pick the girl character when playing a game.

Belle

Belle wants to be a streamer. BUT HER DUMBASS BROTHER WISE THINKS IT'S A BAD IDEA BECAUSE IT'S TOO MUCH WORK (totally not Belle's thoughts)

Belle absolutely loves action and shooter games bonus points if it's a nice sandbox game As much as She absolutely adores cute art styles and cute creatures She absolutely cannot sit there tactical RPG games or any farming game especially pokémon and stardew valley even though she's probably a huge fan She just can't sit though those games without falling asleep. But she will definitely play with you if you ask And who knows maybe she'll start liking them she's definitely not opposed to trying.

HUGE HORROR GAME FAN. If you even mentioned five nights at Freddy's her head will turn 180° and she'll get possessed by the spirit of Mat Pat himself.

Never Play Mario kart and or smash Brothers with her and if you win you better keep your eyes open when you sleep. She will get you back. She will get you back It doesn't matter on the game or not.

her favorite games are Fps games, She hates them because how mean she gets. And how toxic other people are but she cannot put them down she's addicted, please don't get her into another one.

A huge Kingdom hearts fan (I have no explanation I just feel it in my soul.)

Both

Belle 🤝 Minecraft 🤝 Wise, of course, they play it a lot together Wise has definitely set up a free server on his computer so they can just hop in whenever they want. Wise takes forever to build a super nice house. While Belle has a hole in the side of a mountain with her chests all over the floor in no particular order because she is too busy killing everything in sight.

Belle had tried to get Wise into FNAF. He's having a hard time following it but Belle genuinely looks extremely psyched so he might do more expensive research later.

Despite Wise being a board game master Belle and Wise had never actually played a board game together since it would be boring just to play with two people but now that you're here or their friends come over they are insistent that they have to try a board game. One day their dream is to have a D&D party.

Despite Wise not liking most competitive games or games that Belle has in general He just nonchalantly beats them and makes Belle so pissed that's why he doesn't play with her.

Belle gets so annoyed to see Wise smothering you with affection. Because she's jealous it's not her smothering you with affection. Clingy siblings...

[wonton4rang]

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

that's not how this works.

pairing: sungho x reader.

warnings: +18, smut, mentions of cheating.

summary: based on charlie puth's song 'that's not how it works', with some changes because yes. basically cheater coming back and sungho fucking the shit out of you < 3

note: small thought i had to get out, wrote this in like 15 min, did not check anything so it might have typos but omg sungho is soooo hot 😭😭😭

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

sungho was never the type to sleep around, he is a very relationship centered boy, he loved to have something stable with an specific person to woke up to and think about when things were getting heavy on his daily life.

he loved to have dates, go to the park and sit down on a mat while you ate whatever and talked about everything while laughing like it was the funniest thing. he loved to stay late nights at your place and kiss you for so long you both wouldn't even notice when you fell asleep until you woke up the other morning with the boy arms around your waist and his head on your shoulder while cuddled you from the back.

it was all so lovely. so endearing and everyone, including yourselves could see this long term.

that until you messed up.

sungho couldn't believe his eyes the day he was texting you while walking down the street, smiling like a dummy to his phone screen.

"i miss you so much, baby, can i make you dinner at my place today?" sungho typed.

"awww, i miss you so much too, sungho :( but i can't today, i have so much work to do with the finals. i'm so sorry..."

and sungho was not even going to complain, the opposite, in fact, he was going to offer you help or at least offer to send you food to your place for you to study in peace.

but he got distracted when he heard your voice a few meters away, you were standing in front of that cafe you both loved so much with your phone on your hands, apparently waiting for his answer and he just smiled candidly at your sight.

he loved you so much.

right before he could lift his hand and call your name another person joined the frame, making him frown his eyebrows when the boy held your waist and you just looked at him with a wide smile, putting your phone away and walking down the street with the other male holding your hand.

and he wasn't even mad right now, he was just confused as to what the fuck just happened. he might've got it wrong, right? maybe that boy was a family member or a close friend, not necessarily a lover, right?

oh, boy. sungho was trying by all means to make this a misunderstanding.

sad thing for him it wasn't. cause when you guys met the next day and he mentioned that he saw you at the cafe, you went pale, your hands shaking and you suddenly stuttering a lot with every word you said.

at the end he just called it quits after a few weeks of you ignoring him and his words whenever he brought the subject up.

changing the subject with a "oh my god, not this again, babe, i already explained this. i don't wanna talk about it"

but as much as sungho loved you, he wasn't a fan of cheaters or toxic environments so he just broke up with you, not giving you much details but his words being very blunt and explicit.

"i've loved you for many years but i can't be in a relationship were i am the only one committed. i don't like cheaters and i no longer feel comfortable with you. i wish you the best, thank you for everything you gave me"

and he was truly thankful because even though he cried like a baby for a whole month while going to sleep, ignoring your messages and not picking up your calls, he was thankful for the good moments and the bad ones too. he got great memories and a good lesson.

what he didn't expect was you in front of his apartment when he came back from college that night, looking so sorry but he knew better than that so he just passed by your side and opened his door without saying a thing, barely reacting when you pushed him away and got inside his house.

"what are you doing here? i thought i was clear when i said i didn't wanna see you anymore" he said still standing on his door frame, making space for you to leave as he said: "go away"

"i've missed you so much, i'm... i'm so sorry, sungho, i made a mistake and i-"

"we already talked about this, y/n" his voice sounded tired, he was in fact, because he couldn't believe you were so shameless to show up to him like this right when he was getting over you. "i don't care about your excuses, we are not a thing anymore"

"but we could be"

"no, we couldn't"

"but i-"

"you're not gonna leave?"

"please just let me talk"

"i already left you talk and all you could say was bullshit, y/n, i'm done with you, i don't want to be with you anymore and i sincerely hope you could understand that because you hurt me, okay?"

"why you gotta be so hot when you're mad?" sungho just chuckled, closing the door behind him and looking at you with his tilted head, bottom lip between his teeth and his expression yelling 'what am i supposed to do with you?', and honestly, you were up for anything.

"you gonna do the same to him too?" was all he said, swallowing when you got close to him, caressing his shoulders with a sly smile that made him tense.

"we broke up"

and even though sungho tried to play it nice, he wanted to be the bigger person so bad, he just wanted to keep it healthy. but here you were, too close to be apart and too hot to be ignored.

sungho was a weak man.

so he just took you in for a kiss, but not the soft type as you guys were used to, he grabbed the back of your head to press your lips harder and your arms hugged his waist to get closer.

you guys were just so hungry for each other.

sungho's hands were all over your body, holding your hips, your shoulders and then your face, his tongue getting in your mouth and making your pussy leak cause he knew how you liked it.

it didn't take him long to walk against you, your back pressing against the boy's bedroom door before he opened it and threw you on the bed. your eyes were sparkling when you looked at him take his shirt off and lay upon you to continue the kiss.

your legs were open and sungho's hips kept rolling against your clothed cunt, making you tremble and moan during the kiss, your nails pressing on the skin of his wide back and making him groan too.

"fuck, i need you" he said before attacking your neck, playing with your sanity when he started moaning against your skin, leaving long trails with his mouth before he looked you in the eye. "can i?"

and there was a reason you were there at night.

you just nodded and felt him unbuckling your pants, caressing the skin on your thighs when he pulled them down with your panties.

his eyes stayed fixated on your pussy, licking his lips before shaking his head to come back to his senses. he wanted to eat you out so bad but he knew he shouldn't, not right now. he had to fuck you.

and so he did.

he unbuckled his own pants and pulled out his dick, sliding it between your wet folds and making your legs shake a bit at the feeling. damn, you really missed it. but it got even better when he finally pressed his head in your entrance, looking at you like you were the most delicious meal, foxy eyes being slightly covered by his hair and his lips looking so wet that it made you clench your pussy. he was, in fact, the most delicious meal you ever got.

"you have condoms?" he inquired and you just denied with your head, your hands pressing on his back.

"please, get in" sungho kinda pulled back at that because he was not used to fuck you without protection, but you held him close and looked at him with that bright eyes that made him weak "please"

not a single word left his lips when he was pushing inside and once he got in, you had to arch your back, moaning at the stretch, sungho was definitely gifted, not huge but a nice size and width. and the best part was that he actually knew how to use it.

he held your hips and thrusted in a few times before actually starting to moan himself, biting his lip and your hands tangled in his hair, gosh, he loved when you did that.

his weight dropped a little bit in top of you, his lips moving quickly to find yours and start a desperate kiss while his hips kept speeding up, making your body move against the sheets and your hair get all messed up.

but you really didn't mind to be messed up, not when it was sungho the one who messed you up.

and he knew that. everyone fucking knew that.

"you feel so good, sungho" you muttered when he left your lips and hid his face on your neck, crying a little bit out of pleasure there and making your pussy clench "fuck, you're so hot"

"stop saying that" but you know he loved it, his body spoke for him the things his words were denying "my god, you're so wet and warm"

"just for you"

"you suck me in s-so well" he continued, this time leaving your neck to look at you while he pounded your tight cunt "perfect for my dick, and just my dick, right, baby?"

"yes, i'm only yours, please"

and to be honest you both were edging at this point, so you just left yourself go and started matching sungho's thrusts to chase your own high, smiling when his hand grabbed softly around your neck, hard enough to make you feel the rush but not as hard to hurt you.

"i'm cumming" he announced and even though you thought he may want to pull out, he didn't, instead he pressed himself so deep in your pussy that you shaked when you felt him in your cervix.

"dammit" you moaned when the warm liquid filled you, making you feel so dirty, full and even wetter that it made your orgasm arrive while sungho's softly grinded his hips against your clit "oh god, w-wait"

"i know you fucking love it"

and you did.

but it was kinda sad though because as soon as you came, he pulled out, started putting his pants back on and looking for his shirt on the bedroom floor.

you looked at him confused because he never, and i mean NEVER, left you like that after having sex, where was the after care? he didn't even kiss you or said you did well.

the next thing was what actually made you snap, him giving you your pants with a serious look in his face.

"what?" his voice was neutral, no feeling on it, not happiness, not anger, nothing.

"what's wrong?" you said while you took your pants and looked at him, you were still full of his cum, he didn't even pass you a tissue or a paper towel to clean yourself.

"about what? ain't you leaving?"

"sungho, what the fuck is this?" the sound of anger in your voice made sungho look at you confused while you put your pants on "we just had sex, why are you treating me like this?"

"we are not dating, i was pretty clear about that"

"but we just..." he just stayed put, listening to whatever you were going to say "i thought we made up"

"wow, for real? i'm not that easy though" and you damn knew his words had a double meaning when he just looked at you and laughed "anyways, get out of my apartment, let's get you a taxi, it's late"

and you couldn't say anything against it, he was right, you guys were not together, he never said he'll forgive you and, to be honest, you kinda had it coming.

but you tried one last time before he left your side once you got in the taxi.

"sungho, i am really sorry, he is not as good as you and i... i honestly miss you so much, can't we just try again?"

"you know that's not how it works, y/n. did you really break up with him before coming here?" you went silent and he got his answer "yeah, i thought so. i don't fuck with cheaters, pun intended, you can't be coming over or calling me each time you feel lonely or he fucks up"

"but i-"

"i don't deserve that. and neither does he" he cut you up and it was basically game over "get her home safe, sir, please"

the taxi man just nodded and the car finally left, you feeling like the worst person in the world while you texted your current boyfriend that you were going home.

sungho just watched the car go and smiled for himself because he knew you'll come back but this time it won't be the same as before.

because now sungho knew the drill. he was just wishing on a star that he would be able to push you away when you came back because that's not how it was supposed to work.

[yandere-writer-momo]

Today I’m feeling fluffy so no you get fluff.

Thank you @beebooties for making Katsumi fan art with BLÅHAJ because it inspired me to write this! (Ily) 💕💕

Yandere Baki Fluff

Katsumi Orochi sending you selfies with your stuffy

………………………………………

Katsumi had a bad habit of abusing the spare key you had under your door mat (you should really hide that somewhere else. Don’t you know there’s weirdos out there?) The young man currently lounging in your bedroom, his muscular body sinking into your plush bed. He was getting drunk of your scent. Katsumi loved being near you whenever physically possible.

Katsumi pulled your favorite plush, a large navy shark, up to his nose to cuddle. Katsumi burying his nose in the soft sherpa to inhale more of your scent. He missed you so much already and it hasn’t even been a day.

Katsumi rolled over onto his back and held the plush up in his arms in an attempt to pretend it was you he was pushing up into the air. A thought running threw his head… he should send you a selfie.

Katsumi loves the shark plush back to his body and sits up. The karateka pulling out his phone to snap a selfie, the shark slung over his left arm.

Katsumi smiles at the selfie and decides to add a few stickers to it… his signature tiger emojis. He has to make his selfies completely his so you knew exactly who sent them to you.

Katsumi sent you the selfie with a grin, the man kicking his feet in excitement. The shark still held tightly in the crook of his arm. He couldn’t wait for you response.

He shot up from the bed in joy when you replied in less than a minute. A bright blush on his cheeks.

“Katsumi? What are you doing in my room? How did you get in my house?”

Gosh you were so cute… he just came to visit his girlfriend is all. Nothing too crazy…

“I didn’t break in?” He sends the text with another smile. He was really hopeful that the two of you could spend more time together when you came home.

“Katsumi… you can’t just go into my house whenever you want. That’s still breaking and entering.” He knew you probably had your forehead creased and you were sighing. Katsumi knew every expression you make and he loved every single one of them. “I’ll be there in thirty. Just stay put.”

“I wasn’t planning on leaving! Can’t wait to see you, babe!” Katsumi then sent you a barrage of heart emojis and gifs. You couldn’t stay mad at your clingy boyfriend… after all, he wasn’t ever going to let you leave him.

[spirkkock]

A (NSFW) Modern AU where Nedward and Jopson are a cute little married (?) couple getting their house restored and Tozer is a thirsty contractor who gets swept up into a steamy throuple??? Hello??? can anyone hear me?????

Ned and Tom inherited a Georgian or Victorian home from Edward's grandmother or something, but it needs serious work, like needs to be taken back to the studs (or the Victorian equivalent) almost. And Sol comes in to rewire the ancient (fire hazard) electrical.

Down-on-his-luck Sol (having recently lost his job with a construction company) and knows way more about building than just being an electrician is like... hey.... you know they ran all this plumbing wrong here and you can easily salvage the shaker wall paneling in this room instead of tearing it out.

So Ned and Tom are like.... yes? tell us more? so Tozer is just kind of like "well I've got a guy (Morfin) who can run this plumbing again for a really reasonable price, and frankly I could do a better job of retiling this kitchen, and I know a guy (Bridgens) who is really into restoring old Victorian toilets and bathtubs if you need one. Oh by the way - these plaster and lath walls on the first floor don't even need to be removed, I could install some picture rails here so you don't damage the plaster when you hang stuff on the walls."

so they fire the shitty company they had before and put all of their faith in Sol and his mismatched team of contractor friends.

and it's a miracle for Sol because he's had a really unstable couple of months, what with losing his job and then getting booted out of a horribly fucked up polycule and losing his housing stability to boot. So he throws himself into this job which is so much better than just working as just an electrician.

And pretty soon the house becomes (sorta) livable, so Tom and Ned move in while he's still working on it - and then shit hits the fan.

Mostly because Tom works from home and likes to watch Sol with his unnerving blue eyes and walk around in shorts that are, frankly, obscene while also (not-so) subtly bending over to put paint swatches on the wainscoting or whatever. And whenever Ned is there (Saturdays) he's always trying to be helpful but doing a miserable job of it and then moping around with his big sad eyes and his fuck-me lashes while Sol does the heavy lifting.

And this is a Big Job, and a long one, so it's months and months of this, until eventually Ned and Tom are asking Sol to stay for dinner or join them to watch the game against liverpool or whatever - and they're both driving Sol up the wall because he's so horny for both of them he could die but they're MARRIED.

and then one horribly hot day (when Sol is working on re-installing the newly restored windows on the second floor so that the central AC the HVAC guy (Peglar) put in can actually start getting used) and he's stripped out of his shirt and is sweating obscenely - Tom brings him up a sandwich and some cold water and nearly drops the plate when he sees Sol glistening and flexing like that. And it obviously results in Tom on his knees (don't worry, he's using Sol's kneeling mat to protect his lovely delicate knees from the unfinished floor) giving Sol the sloppiest, filthiest blowjob of his life and it melts Sol's damn MIND.

Only this is a huge problem because now all the sudden he's fucking Tom half the time instead of working, and he can't look at Ned in the eye because, Christ, he's been banging this guy's husband in nearly every room in their house. And now Sol is a nervous wreck because Ned is always trying to coax him into staying for a beer or some takeout. And Sol isn't even picking up on the way Ned's hands linger when he claps him on the shoulder or the long knowing looks between Tom and Ned whenever Sol goes red and looks away from Tom's ass or that pale sliver of skin where his shirt rides up.

Sol is totally going to lose this job and never be able to use them as a reference.

Until one Saturday Tom corners Sol in the upstairs bathroom while hes installing the beautiful clawfoot tub and crowds him up against the recently restored sink to shove his hand down Sol's pants. And Sol is like, "Wait-please-Tom-don't --- ohhhh god - Ned is -fuuuuuck - NED is DOWNSTAIRS" but of course Tom just cuts him off with a vicious kiss and keeps stroking him off.

And the stairs creak - which mean's Ned is coming up but Sol can barely register it because Tom's hand feels so good and his lips are so hot and demanding. But then Tom pulls away and Sol makes eye contact with Ned over his shoulder and - oh fuck - he's cumming so hard into Tom's palm that it nearly makes his knees give out.

And there's a long moment of horrified silence where Sol is frozen, cum cooling on his stomach, Tom's hand still around his prick, and Nedward is looking at him with wide dark eyes and his stupid pouty mouth open in shock. And Sol is white knuckling the sink so hard he thinks he might rip it right out and ruin all the beautiful work he's done. This is it - he's cooked - this whole thing is crashing down around his head now, while his cock is out and the tub isn't even all the way installed.

But then Ned's pink tongue is darting out to wet his lips he palms himself with one of his big hands and his voice is low and gravely and totally filthy as he says, "Christ, Sol - you two look just as hot as I imagined."

And Tom is leaning in and snickering against his throat, and Sol doesn't know if his brain is just fully been scrambled but he doesn't understand what is happening at all. But then Tom is kissing him, and when he comes up for air there's a second pair of lips there to meet him, and it takes him a moment to realize that they're Ned's. And fuck his kiss is so hot and wet and Sol is moaning.

Needless to say he's a wreck of a man and so confused to find out that Ned has known all along that Sol and Tom were fucking - duh - there was a coordinated effort to try and get him into their bed, but that Ned was convinced Sol wasn't interested so he had backed off and just been satisfied hearing about it second-hand from Tom.

So Sol gets to have hot threesomes with two beautiful men all the time now as he finishes up the house and he takes some convincing but eventually Ned and Tom get him to agree to move into one of the spare rooms (although their bed is big enough for all three of them so it rarely gets used, actually)

and maybe Ned uses a little bit of that inheritance to loan Sol and friends what they need to start an honest-to-god historical restoration contracting company.

NOW EXPANDED: [[PART 2]]

[wintfleur]

I’d love to read a bit into how Juliette feels when mat and quinn are there for her on a race weekend around the paddock!

au masterlist - everything for the AU is under #🍂 ͡ ꒱ Juliette Leclerc

a/n ﹒I love them sm pls. ty for sending in a ask lovely mwah x

Juliette genuinely gets so happy whenever they get the chance to come to her races !! even when they are together she’s still like ‘omg they wanna come watch me ??? :(‘ she is such a sucker for them, she just melts completely.

She makes sure that they get the star treatment, only the best for her boys n nothing less !!! She loves being able to walk around with them, talking excitedly and telling them about everything and God does it make them fall in love with her more.

She always has nerves before a race, but knowing that they are there with her, watching her on makes her feel a lot calmer. At first she would get so nervous, wanting to preform well when they are there, but those nerves disappear fast.

Mat and Quinn are like her good luck charms, she’s never had a bad race whenever they are there . . . And she makes sure to give them all the love and praise when they get home for being ‘the sexiest good luck charms ever’

She also loves seeing her boys interact with her fans, friends and her team. It makes her soooo happy seeing how comfortable they are :(

Seeing them laugh and talk with her grid friends makes her so happy !!

And the kiss they share after the race as she runs into there arms and her teams. . . seeing them smiling up at her, cheering her on as she gets her trophy, is a feeling she never wants to forget.

she’s so in love with them omg

°. — taglist ( @lovings4turn @toasttt11 @cixrosie @ru-kru @alwaysclassyeagle @theopenlocker @lavisenri @callsignwidow @willowpains )

[vespidphoenix]

Entirely at your service

Tag list: @fanaticsnail @turtletaubwrites @weaversofnulbundin

It's Sanji's turn to stay on the Thousand Sunny while the rest of the Straw Hats explore a new island, so he makes his way up to the crow's nest for his watch. He is pleasantly surprised in more ways than one by what, or rather who, he finds up there.

Notes: NSFW, minors begone, lots of swearing, friends to lovers, porn with feelings, idiots in love, chubby OC, some angst, lots of fluff, praise kink, breast worship, consent really is sexy, inappropriate(?) use of observation haki, etc; word count 6.3k

AN: Baby's first fan fiction! Ya girl can have a little a shameless self-insert, as a treat. I've only seen OPLA and I'm not past the East Blue in the manga/anime yet, but I've done my best to keep everything consistent with canon.

AN 2: I use French as the language of the Celestial Dragons, and both Sanji and Amy are fluent. Most of the time, I'll put the English words in brackets at the end of the paragraph, but there are some recurring phrases that I'll leave untranslated: mère bleue is 'blue mother', as in Mother Ocean; merde is 'shit'; mon amour, chérie, and ma chère are endearments

Chapter One: you are here! | Next chapter | Masterlist

Edit: read this chapter on ao3!

(Banner courtesy of @cafekitsune)

As soon as the hatch leading to the crow’s nest clangs shut, Sanji sets his snack tray on the floor mats and collapses with a dramatic groan. 

“Fuck me raw,” he sighs.

“As appealing as that sounds, that’s gonna have to wait another couple days per Chopper’s advice,” a feminine voice deadpans behind him.

Sanji sits upright with a start, nearly knocking over his water bottle. “Mère bleue!” he exclaims as he turns to face his crew mate; “for some reason I thought you were in the landing party today.”

Amy’s reply is drowned out by the pounding of Sanji’s heart when he blinks and notices just how casually she is dressed. He recognizes her sarong as a recent gift from a grateful cloth merchant—he would stand by the assertion that everything looked good on Nami, the original recipient, but he’d have to agree with her that it suited their crew’s interpreter better—and the crocheted halter top as Amy’s own handiwork. He feels a sudden itch to find out for himself just how soft a yarn she chose for this particular work of art…

For lack of a mirror, Amy could not see what her face looked like; but she imagined that if she could, her eyes would be wide and sparkling with mischief. It’s certainly the feeling she always seems to get whenever she’s face-to-face with the handsome blond before her: a grin pressing at her cheeks to escape through the seam of lips pressed together, eyelids spread as if to take in more of him.

(Sometimes, she reckons she could spread other parts of herself for that purpose, if she thought him willing to put his money where his mouth always seems to go.)

“I’m not complaining, mind you,” she continues to say, “but this is the third—no, fourth time in a row!”

Sanji gulps and shakes the slightly-glazed expression from his face. “I’m sorry, can you say that again? I was…distracted by your beauty.” He winks one piercing blue eye, and skepticism be damned, she feels heat creeping over her body and pooling between her legs.

Amy rolls her eyes and fidgets with her sarong in lieu of making a snarky comment about blindfolds.

“As I was saying while you were ogling me, I was going to be one of the landing party, but Nami insisted on having Usopp join her in mapping the island because my handwriting is so much better than his, so I should be the one to help you with inventory. She’s not wrong, per se, but this is the third or fourth time in a row this has happened, and part of me wants to call bullshit.”

“Part of you? What about the rest of you?” Sanji asks, resolutely fixing his gaze on Amy’s eyes instead of letting it drift to her bust or the soft rolls of her exposed torso.

This time it’s Amy’s turn to deliver a blush-inducing wink. “The rest of me is simply happy to be spending time with you.”

“Well, lucky for us, sweetheart, I took the liberty of doing inventory earlier this morning so that Miss Nami would have a grocery list,” Sanji replies after taking a deep breath, “so I am…entirely at your service.” 

Entirely at your service. The words tickle Amy as she takes in Sanji’s shirtless form, supine once more and sporting that megawatt grin. As her gaze trickles down from his abs to those steel-hard thighs, she can’t even bring herself to be annoyed by how smug he looks; Mother Ocean knows how handsome he knows he is, how hard he’s worked to earn those well-toned—

“Have I rendered you speechless, mademoiselle?”

Sanji’s voice, sultry and teasing, interrupts her train of thought.

Entirely at your service.

Sanji knows he’s close to some sort of victory when Amy’s face flushes even more deeply and she still doesn’t answer right away. There’s something uniquely thrilling about fencing with words and looks the way Mosshead trains with Wado Ichimonji—maneuvering, testing, anticipating, parrying, scoring—and he reckons it has to do with the way both parties win something if one goes about it correctly.

He watches and sits up as Amy walks around to his front before she settles next to the tray of snacks. His heart thumps harder in his chest the same way that foolish thing does every time they’re in such close proximity, not quite touching but close enough that he wouldn’t even need to fully extend his arm were he to caress her cheek—

“You don’t need to sit up on my account, handsome. Maybe I’ll take you up on your offer later, but right now maybe I’ll serve you some—how does that sound?” Amy plucks a single grape from the cluster and holds it above his mouth.

Maybe I’ll serve you some.

It’s not often Sanji allows himself to contemplate what he might do with such an offer. As a child, he’d served in order to live; as an adolescent and now as an adult, he lives to serve. But sometimes it occurs to him that letting someone serve him instead can itself be an act of…well…service.

(It will take some time before he allows himself even to think the word ‘love’ in place of ‘service’, and longer still before he allows himself to speak it; but it’s there, waiting like a daffodil bulb in early March for safe conditions to bloom.)

There will be time for Sanji to unpack all of this later, when a beautiful woman is not offering him a grape that looks as sweet and delicious as the person holding it, looking at him with the inviting heat of an onsen—or perhaps it is the sort of hunger that no amount of grapes can quench but he might be able to satisfy anyway. 

All Blue forbid he keep a lady waiting. He lowers himself back onto the floor mats and opens his mouth.

“Good boy,” Amy teases in her best attempt at a sultry purr, frowning when Sanji gives her a strange look and shifts uncomfortably instead of rolling his eyes. “Sorry, does my femme fatale impression need work? Too over-the-top, not campy enough, too demeaning?”

“No, that was—no, no, you’re fine,” he replies, suddenly a little breathless. “How about that grape?”

If Amy notices the hunger filling both his mind and his gym shorts, she mercifully does not comment on it.

There’s a look in Sanji’s eyes that, if she didn’t know better, Amy might call naked desire, and the idea renders her dizzy with want, or it could be dehydration—she’s not sure, not in this weather. She drops the grape in Sanji’s waiting mouth, pats his jaw, and gets up to let a breeze in through a window.

She can hear the slight frown in Sanji’s voice when he calls, “Are you alright, darling? Can I get you something to drink? I think I saw a fountain somewhere…”

“You’re not beating the waiter allegations from Zoro anytime soon, are you?” Amy chuckles, the cooler air having relieved her flustered state.

“He can call me a scullion for all I care; it’s a small price to pay to see you satisfied.” The chef curses under his breath; there are no spare cups up here, so sharing his canteen will have to suffice. He brings it to Amy with an apologetic smile.

She takes a sip and smiles gratefully, and allows her eyes once again to wander over Sanji’s chiseled body. “I have a tall glass of water to drink from, and that’s a good place to start.”

Sanji draws a sudden breath and runs a hand through his hair. “Keep talking like that, and we might not get to finish the snacks I brought up.”

A wicked grin spreads over Amy’s face, and Sanji knows he’s fallen into his own trap.

“How about I help you finish your snack, and you help me finish mine?”

He groans and tilts his head back, and the creeping heat that became smoldering want is stoked into flame by the huskiness of his voice, by the way his neck seems further exposed, there for the kissing—

“Say the word, Amy, and all of it is yours.”

Amy merely smiles. She steps past him, hooking an arm around the far side of his waist as she goes; when he spins around to face her once again, she tugs on the hand suddenly holding hers.

“You gonna have a seat or what?” she asks, nodding toward the tray.

A moment’s hesitation, and Sanji steps forward into the gap between them.

“Are you gonna call me a good boy if I do?” he asks almost under his breath, just above a whisper.

They’re standing so, so close together now, Sanji is sure Amy can feel his breath on her forehead and the place where his shorts are almost too tight to contain him—because she might have called him a tall glass of water, but to him her eyes are Dressrosi kahlua, and he is so drunk on her gaze he would confess to a lot more than his longings, just for another shot.

“I can call you anything you like,” she breathes, “when I am entirely at your service.”

Their lips meet now in a kiss that, for all the repartee and flirtation that preceded it, is gentle and unhurried, a moment to be savored. After a few moments they pull apart, all smiles, long enough for Sanji to remark:

“I’m pretty sure that’s supposed to be my line.”

The pair dissolve into giggles and quick pecks as Sanji finally lays himself down beside the snacks.

To his left, recumbent and supporting herself on one arm, Amy realizes her mistake and gestures to the tray. "Would you mind passing me those?" she asks.

"I thought you were supposed to be serving me," he replied with a mock pout and still-twinkling eyes. 

"I was always taught it was impolite to reach directly across someone's personal space." Amy raises an eyebrow, still looking amused.

Gently, tentatively, as if reaching out to pet a cat, Sanji places his left hand on the small of her back. The hitch in Amy's breath at his touch and the way her eyes widen send a tingling sensation down his spine, straight to his groin. He flashes her the most charming smile he can muster.

"Chérie, in case I haven't made it clear, I want you in my personal space; and unless I am reading you wrong, in which case I apologize sincerely..." He begins to remove his hand.

"No, no, keep doing that—"

(Amy almost doesn't recognize that plaintive voice as her own, but the way his broad palm spread across her back and the soothing way he moved his thumb in little circles have seared themselves into her mind like an addiction.)

Sanji, that smug, sexy bastard, grins and does as he is told.

“…if I am not mistaken, you want me in your personal space, too.” 

Amy is speechless for a moment with an embarrassment she can’t quite explain, but she knows exactly how to get back at Sanji. With his hand back in its place holding her, she smiles sweetly and says:

“Thank you…”

—she moves not only to reach across him for the food, but also to straddle him entirely, which she is sure was his plan to begin with; but then she leans her head close to his, and her smile turns impish—

“…or should I say ‘good boy’?”

Pulling her waist closer with one hand and pushing himself up from the floor with the other arm, Sanji kisses Amy again, trailing along her jawline with an unmistakable urgency.

“Mon amour,” he pleads, “laisse-moi te montrer ce que tu m’inspires…” [Let me show you what you inspire in me...]

“Ho-hold on, lover boy,” Amy gasps, giving the smallest yelp when his hand squeezes a plush asscheek and presses her body against his hardness. “Don’t forget what you came here to do. We don’t—fuck—we don’t waste food.” She pushes against Sanji’s chest and hopes he can see the sympathetic reluctance in her face.

He whimpers. Sanji whimpers, and the sound of it is almost enough to break her resolve; but she knows that if he loved anything in the world more than women, it would be food alone. She presses her forehead to his and a gentle kiss to his nose.

“We don’t waste food.”

If Sanji didn’t know better, he’d think he was dreaming. If he’s dreaming, then woe betide the person who wakes him up, he thinks.

The afternoon sun backlights Amy’s head like a halo, and the breeze through the window causes her brown hair to flutter like a curtain or a sacred veil. Sanji thanks whatever deities are listening—for surely the vision above him is divine in source as well as appearance—for every person before him who fumbled their chance at the privilege that is now his. Hell if he knows what a rejected-princeling-turned-pirate-cook could possibly offer that is worthy of a goddess like this; but he would devote himself to her, be her high priest, beg her to take him as her throne—anything for the heaven in her embrace, if she would only let him.

We don’t waste food.

The reminder nudges Sanji out of his angst, and he grins. “Let’s have those snacks, then, before we get carried away and fill up on something else.”

He gives Amy one more kiss on her lips, chaste yet searing, and lets her go.

The absence of his hand on her waist feels like a loss, until she sits back to reach for the grapes and feels something pressing below her tailbone. She exchanges a knowing smile with the man pinned beneath her, handsome as a demigod.

“You know, if we share those snacks, they’ll be gone faster,” he muses, before dropping his voice even lower. “Then you and I can have our ways with each other.”

“Someone’s eager.” Amy winks and picks up a piece of bruschetta.

“Eager to please you, eager to serve you, eager to feel you in the throes of bliss—yes, I am eager, and you deserve an eager lover, Amy.”

Amy looks stunned. Sanji gestures to the bread slice in her hand.

“Mind telling me how that bruschetta tastes?” he asks. “I used a different combination of cheese and seasoning since we couldn’t find any mozzarella in the last port.”

You deserve an eager lover.

Amy knows this to be true, knows that a lack of sex is better than mediocre sex; but knowing is one thing, and hearing a would-be lover echo the sentiment is another. Not only that: Sanji says it with such conviction, as if pleading with her to believe it too. It's refreshing. Arousing.

So...maybe she leans forward a bit more than necessary when she brings a morsel to Sanji's waiting mouth, and delights in the way his noises of appreciation seem to be as much for the heft of her breasts as for the acidic tang of the diced tomatoes. Maybe she grinds her bottom on his clothed cock just a little when she reaches for another handful of grapes, and smiles with the knowledge that his moaning isn't only for the bursts of sweetness on his tongue. Maybe she is uncommonly thorough when licking the sticky tangerine juice off his fingers.

Entirely at your service.

Maybe I’ll serve you some.

Swimming as their heads are with heady lust, it takes Sanji and Amy by surprise when they find the snack tray empty. They stare at it in silence for a long moment, before—

“Should I, uh—”

“That went more—”

“No, sorry, you go—”

“You go—”

Sanji sits up, laughing, and Amy kneels in front of him, head cocked to one side.

“You wouldn’t happen to have any condoms on you, or know whether Zoro keeps any up here?” Amy asks quietly.

“Hm? I think Mosshead keeps all his in his belt thing; Franky’s shooting blanks and exclusive with Miss Robin, so they don’t need any—”

“Wait, how does Franky know…”

“Apparently the Surgeon of Death also does vasectomies from time to time—wish I’d thought of that the last time we ran into them.”

“Damn. But do you have any?” Amy asks, leaning closer and poking him gently.

Sanji sighs deeply. “Don’t got any rubbers on me, but I keep some in the bunk room…”

“Hmmm, mais je ne peux plus attendre.” With her left hand on his right cheek, Amy pulls Sanji in for a lingering kiss. “J’ai besoin de toi maintenant.” [but I can't wait anymore; I need you now]

“Fuck, Amy,” Sanji groans between hungry, open-mouthed kisses, “how’m I supposed to resist you when you talk to me all sweet like that?” He slides a hand just above the waist of her sarong for emphasis, and cautiously slips a couple fingertips between fabric and skin.

Amy allows her fingernails to lightly scrape his skin as her free hand finds his spine; the hand already on his face threads through his hair. “You’re not supposed to resist me,” she murmurs into his jawline as she pulls his head back to expose his neck. “You’re supposed to forget about that snack tray, forget about our crewmates”—she places a cluster of kisses along his neck—“and enjoy some time alone with your lover—”

Your lover. The words send shivers coursing over Sanji’s skin.

“—just…enjoy yourself for a while.” She looks up at him through half-lidded eyes and allows one hand to drift down to his waistband.

“Well, when you put it like that—merde, ça me sens bien—let me at least put a towel down for us?” Sanji reluctantly extracts himself from Amy, pressing a kiss to the back of her hand when he catches a pout on her lovely face. [that feels good]

“Make it quick, mon amour…vraiment, j’ai besoin de toi…” [truly, I need you]

Sanji pulls a couple towels from a nearby rack, drapes the larger one so that it flows from the bottom step onto the floor, and sets the smaller one beside it. Approaching Amy, he holds a hand out to her with the air of a gentleman at a ball asking a lady to dance. She takes it and pulls herself up to stand in front of him.

“We’re really doing this, aren’t we?” she asks with an adoring smile.

Sanji cups her face in both of his hands and looks her in the eyes. “We can stop at any time and it won’t cause problems between us, y’know that, right? I want this to be enjoyable for both of us.”

Amy lets her eyes flick down to Sanji’s parted lips before meeting his gaze. “What would really be enjoyable right now is you kissing me…”

“So needy,” he teases, but obliges Amy anyway.

“‘Needy’? The love cook calls me ‘needy’?” she replies with mock outrage. “You’re the one who tricked me into straddling you and got so horny over a simple pet name that you reverted to Celestial!”

Sanji gives her a mischievous smile and another peck. “You stepped into the trap very willingly, though, didn’t you?” Another kiss, lingering a moment, and he adds: “And I know for a fact you loved it when I switched languages.”

“Quoi d’autre peux-tu faire avec ta langue, hmm?” Amy whispers against Sanji’s lips. [What else can you do with your tongue]

“S’il te plaît, chérie,” he whispers in kind, his fingers dancing lightly along one arm as he lifts it to his shoulder, “je peux te démontrer…” [If it please you, I can demonstrate]

Suddenly he bends down, and with a grunt he lifts Amy by her thighs, one on either side of his waist. He sets her down on the towel.

No sooner does Sanji let go of her legs than Amy is on him, gripping his face with both hands and kissing him voraciously. 

“That’s so—ungh—so fucking hot, Sanji,” she moans. “Fuck, you’re strong.”

“You’re not that heavy, are you?” Sanji manages to say between kisses—not that he’s complaining. “Ten stone, twelve?”

“Fourteen last I checked,” Amy murmurs into his chin. “You’re so good at what you do, I’m always hungry for more.”

Sanji chuckles at her double entendre. “Fourteen’s nothin’, long as I let my legs do the work.”

“Definitely the sexiest legs I’ve ever seen.” Amy sucks lightly at the base of Sanji’s neck, and almost erases his train of thought completely.

“Merde—since your own, of course, right?” He places his hands on her knees and ever-so-slowly moves them upward.

“Mmm, naturally,” Amy murmurs, more interested in Sanji’s collarbone.

“Are you even listening right now?” Sanji asks, grinning with amusement as he pulls away. He laughs when Amy makes a whining noise and chases him with her lips.

“Your tongue is doing way too much talking, lover boy. Starting to think maybe you’re all talk.”

Sanji narrows his eyes.

Before Amy has time even to discern anything from his smile, Sanji’s gripping the back of her head in one hand and nudging her mouth open with his tongue. His other hand slides higher along her thighs, tantalizingly close to where she suddenly realizes she needs his touch the most. She moans into Sanji’s hungry mouth, the noise sounding more like a whimper than she would have liked to admit were she clear-minded; but her senses are consumed with him, and she can’t bring herself to care. His appreciative groans are like held notes on a saxophone; he smells of musky cologne and sweat in a way that registers as the essence of virility in the back of her mind; he electrifies her skin with the slightest contact; she can taste fruit and spice on his tongue, and—

“Sanj, there’s something metal in your mouth, is that a piercing or…?”

Amy leans back to peer into Sanji’s grinning mouth, and sure enough, the frenulum is pierced with a horseshoe bar.

She puts her arms around his neck and pulls him close again. “You know, I’d heard you described as having a silver tongue,” she teases, her lips a hair’s breadth from his, “but I didn’t think Nami and Usopp were being serious.”

Sanji kisses her again, delicate and sweet like a meringue. “It’s surgical steel, love, but I appreciate the sentiment.” He chuckles and Amy rolls her eyes fondly.

“Now, why don’t we go back to your talent show?” she suggests.

“A show, hmm? I’ve never tried exhibitionism, but we can talk kinks later, sure.”

“You know what I meant!” Amy laughs, giving Sanji’s shoulder a playful backhand.

“Oh, yes, that’s right: the talent show in which I”—Sanji places one more kiss on Amy’s smiling mouth—“pleasure this lovely lady”—he whispers before kissing behind her ear and sliding his hands to the laces of her top—“with my tongue until she”—loosens the knot holding the halter-neck in place and nips an exposed shoulder, prompting her to buck against him—“begs me to make her cum on my face.” He presses his face into her cleavage, and looks up to gauge her expression. “That one?”

Amy combs a hand through Sanji’s corn-silk hair, pushing it back from his forehead, and gasps with something like awe marbled with need. His lust-darkened eyes peering up at her from between her breasts might be the most erotic thing she’s ever seen.

Entirely at your service.

You deserve an eager lover.

“Oh, Sanji…” she sighs and leans back against the bench. “Please, yes, I need it…

“…do I get to serve you after?”

The question is so airy and quiet that Sanji almost doesn’t catch it, occupied as he is with the scent of Amy’s perfume and the solemn task of unbuttoning her from the other side. “What’s that, darling?”

Amy holds his face between her hands and pets his flushed cheeks with her thumbs. “Do I get to return the favor once you’ve made good on those wonderful things you said you want to do to me?”

“You may not need to. I’m pretty, ah, worked up right now—might be that I’ll follow you over the edge when you cum for me.” Sanji kisses her palm and, taking hold of her hand, guides it along the faint trail of hair leading to where he needs her touch the most.

Amy wants to press the question further, but contents herself with pressing her hand to the bulge in Sanji’s shorts. She gasps in wonder at his size and the needy cry that pours from his lips.

“Let’s find out for sure, shall we?” She turns her back to Sanji and lifts her hair out of the way.

Seating himself on the bench beside Amy, Sanji can reach the buttons just fine, but he welcomes the chance to lavish her neck with a flurry of kisses. He smiles against her skin at her giggling, and thinks of how quickly the sound is becoming one of his favorites.

Amy’s breath, already shaking, hitches when she feels her top come loose, and again when Sanji sucks lightly on the skin joining her neck to her shoulders.

“Sanji, please…”

“Shhh, darling, I’ll take care of you,” he murmurs as his hands snake over the bare skin of her waist to cover hers in the front. “Your body is so soft, so beautiful. I love it.

“Can…can I just…feel it for a moment first? Explore it, admire it for a bit before I ravish you?” Sanji continues, tracing with his fingers the places that had previously been covered.

“Just as long as your body stays on mine.” Amy sighs dreamily and leans against him, eyes closed, happy to let him fill her senses once again.

There has, historically, been precious little in Sanji’s life that could be described as soft or tender. Such is a hard-working life at sea, to say nothing of what came before his stint on the Orbit; even on such a well-appointed ship as the Thousand Sunny, piracy is piracy, and the oceans swallow the weak. So when something comes Sanji’s way that could be construed as even the vaguest promise of devotion, he has learned to seize it, to enjoy it while he can, before the Blue Mother’s waves inevitably carry it out of reach.

He does not seize Amy, for she is not a pipe dream or a fantasy: she is substantial, in multiple senses of the word, generous in the warm plushness of her body and likewise in the beauty of her soul. He paces himself, like a man who has known starvation followed by plenty; though he does have to take a steadying breath when she sets aside the bralette and turns toward him, now bare-chested. One hand goes to her heartbeat, one to her shoulder, trailing downward and leaving a tingling heat in its wake.

“I want to figure you out, chérie, before I take you apart,” Sanji rasps in Amy’s ear as he engages his haki.

Amy has a hunch she’s in for some of the best sex of her life. Not that she has a great deal of first-hand experience for the love cook to exceed—men did not often stay in her life long enough for attraction to develop—but even if Sanji is as much of a serial womanizer as Nami and Zoro make him out to be, he has already proven attentive and empathetic enough to be above average. It’s not his skill she’s worried about—

The casual flick of a thumb across a now-stiffened nipple jolts Amy back into the moment with a squeal.

“Fuck, Sanji, that feels so good, do it again…”

He obliges, of course he does, and pleasure like an electric shock goes straight to her cunt, suddenly flooded with slick. She arches her back, leaning forward into his touch; and he must have heard the needy impatience in her wordless moan, because he pulls her flush with him and nibbles her ear. 

“Où d’autre, where else do you need me?” Sanji murmurs. “J’ai besoin de te plaîre…” [Where else; I need to please you]

Where doesn’t she need him? Amy wonders. “Everywhere, babe, jus’—fuck—everywhere. My neck, my hands, my tits, need you inside, everywhere.”

Sanji’s face lights up like he’s received the best news of his life, and he kisses her again. 

“As my lady commands.”

As he nibbles at her ear and her neck, Amy can’t resist rolling her hips against him, flush as she is with his hardened abdomen and his cock, and spirits it feels so good—

“Amy, my love,” Sanji pleads, “I don’t want to cum yet, let me do this for you—”

“But Sanji…”

“Amy. Don’t you want me to keep my promise to you?”

He stands and pulls her up as well, and continues: “Don’t you want to find out what my tongue can do? I should think you wouldn’t want the talent show to end so early.”

“Your fingers untying my skirt are giving me a mixed signal,” Amy mutters, though her fingers digging out the knots belie the annoyance in her words.

“I’m going to have you lay back for me, darling,” Sanji says as he folds the sarong, “and I want to have a cushion for your beautiful head.” He holds the garment out to her, and he’s looking at her with such tenderness that she feels something clench in her chest. “Your comfort matters to me.”

“And you feeling good matters to me.”

“Tell you what,” Sanji offers as his hands push gently on Amy’s hips, encouraging her to sit. “I get to taste every part of you, and you get to shower me in praise and ‘good boys’ to your heart’s content. How does that sound?”

“And then I get to play with your cock?” she asks, pouting slightly but positioning herself on the towel nevertheless.

Sanji makes a choked gasp. “Merde, yes, then you can play with my cock.”

“Sounds good to me.” Amy leans back and watches as he hems her in, elbows on either side of her shoulders, powerful legs astride her own.

Sanji takes a deep breath and considers what he learns from his haki. Amy shudders almost imperceptibly with each heaving breath; her eyes, wide and dark, dart between his eyes, his lips, his chest, and occasionally his groin. Her back is arched just enough to not have the steps’ wooden lip pressing into her, or perhaps she means to draw his attention back to her sizeable breasts; and her knees are turned outward, as though readying her legs to cage his lower torso close to her own. She smells of jasmine, sweat, and the spiced tang of arousal, so much arousal. 

He can’t wait to taste her. With no dissonance of thought or feeling in her aura to give him pause, the tasting begins.

He starts, quite naturally, with her mouth: lips that capture his sight whenever she has occasion to wear lipstick, staining his fantasies a pomegranate red; gasps and moans that spill from her like an overturned glass of sparkling wine; the lingering taste of sweet words and peppery olive oil on a tongue seeking out its counterpart to pull him closer. When the cruel need for oxygen forces them to pull apart, Sanji and his own clever tongue find the sensitive spot just behind Amy’s ear that he knows will make her nerves sing—

“SANJI, oh gods!” she cries, sure enough—

“Amy, chérie, would you be very offended if I were to leave a souvenir on your skin?” Sanji asks in a husky voice while he has her ear. “A mark of my passion, so to speak?”

Amy does not answer right away and her frenzied groping stills, but her embrace remains steady, which soothes his unease. She’s considering it, Sanji reminds himself.

Finally, she caresses his cheek, and he takes the chance to kiss her inner wrist. “Put them in places that can be covered with ease,” she replies decisively. “Whatever…this is”—for the first time since he found her in the crow’s nest Sanji hears a note of apprehension in her voice—“it’s our treasure, and I’d like to enjoy it that way for a bit before making it known to anyone else.

“We may be Straw Hats, but we are still pirates,” Amy continues with a smile returning to her face. “I think we’re allowed to be a little cagey about our hidden treasure.”

Whatever this is. Our hidden treasure. Sanji feels something shift in him at Amy’s words—not a jarring shift like a fall or a sudden change of perspective, but a shift like the changing of plans or steering a vessel in a new direction. A shift like soil making way for growing roots.

In the meantime, Sanji’s cock is twitching at the prospect of marking this woman as his, and again with the thrill of keeping a secret. “Such an angel,” he groans into her neck, “such a privilege just to touch you.”

Such a dangerous business, this whole falling-in-love thing, Amy thinks to herself. No, she’s not in love, not with one of the most notorious flirts on the Grand Line, even if he does look like he belongs on a magazine cover instead of a pirate vessel. Even if she isn’t merely imagining the heartbroken look on his face at the words ‘whatever this is’. Even if he is the most caring lover she’s ever had—because that’s just the thing: he does love generously, he loves in defiance of the sire he left behind, he loves and he loves and it would be selfish of her to want some part of it to be hers alone, wouldn’t it? No, she’s not in love with Sanji, but the cliff’s edge is right there, and the call of the void is strong.

“Chérie, have I lost you again? Is everything alright?”

Sanji’s handsome, smiling face is hovering above her chest again. Amy runs her fingers through his hair—he closes his eyes and hums at the sensation—and tucks it behind his ear.

“I was just…distracted by your beauty.” She smiles and winks.

“Using my own lines on me, are you?” Sanji growls in mock annoyance.

“What?! I’m just learning from the best.”

“Flatterer.”

“Clearly flattery works, or else you wouldn’t be straddling a mostly-naked woman right now.” Amy begins to drag one foot along Sanji’s leg for emphasis.

In lieu of an answer, he shudders and trails a finger along the side of one breast, which he lifts toward his mouth. While Amy lets her head fall back against the improvised cushion, he mouths at one pebbled areola with relish and strokes the other with a firm thumb, basking in her babbled praises over the next several minutes.

“That feels so, so good, darling, so good…

“Gods, your tongue is incredible—yes, just like that!”

“Oh, fuck—could let you do just this to me for hours…”

…and Sanji thinks, feeling the way she bucks and tenses under his caresses, he’d be willing to do it, too, his own erection be damned, if he didn’t think muscle cramps on his part would put a damper on her pleasure. If nothing else happens between him and Amy, he could at least go for months touching himself just to this memory.

Mercifully, the sound of a soft chuckle interrupts Sanji’s anxious thoughts before they have a chance to spiral. He leaves off the sucking motion of his tongue and looks into Amy’s half-lidded eyes. “Chérie?” he inquires tentatively.

She again combs his hair back with her fingers, still smiling. “It just struck me as funny, the way you looked like a boy licking his first ice cream cone of the summer.”

Sanji stares a moment before spluttering with indignation. “And what is a man supposed to look like as he is worshiping at his lady’s breasts?” 

Unfortunately, this serves only to make the lady in question laugh harder, albeit with fondness, and touch her forehead to his.

“I don’t know, I don’t know! It felt so good, but when I opened my eyes, there you were, swirling your tongue like you were afraid of letting your mint chocolate chip melt—”

“Melt?!” Sanji echoes, still playfully indignant. “Oh, I’ll make you melt—”

—to which end he pushes Amy back down and renews his ministrations with a vengeance, licking and sucking and nipping the sensitive buds, and tickling her sides. His hands slide lower and lower along her hips until he’s teasing the skin just above her panties; and when she makes no move to bat his hand away, he dips two fingers into the heat of her folds.

Amy never knew sex could be so fun.

Well, no, that’s not quite true; she’s long known, in an intellectual sort of way, that feeling safe and relaxed emotionally is conducive to both having fun and to having good sex. But the wisdom gleaned from others feels like an understatement compared to the euphoria and the anticipation suffusing her right now.

“You—” she pants, smiling, “you’re as good as your word, ah-aren’t you?”

Sanji releases a reddened nipple with a lewd smack.  “And you, love, have been melting for a while already, haven’t you?” He runs a finger along her slit, grinning wickedly at her wetness. 

“Oh fuck, Sanji, keep—keep doing that…”

“Tell me, Amy, is all of this for me?” Sanji all but purrs. Her pussy clenches at the sight of him licking her slick off of his hand and she whimpers.

A whimper is not enough for him: his fingers tease her clit, dancing around but never touching it. He flicks a nipple with his tongue. “I need words, ma chère…” he says.

Amy does not have words, though. There is nothing in Amy’s world save her body, and Sanji’s touch, and pure sensation.

“Answer me,” Sanji insists in a rumbled voice; and when he hears no answer but more wordless whimpering, he bites on Amy’s nipple and strokes her clit at the same time.

“Fuck! SANJI!” she screams, mustering the last two words in her brain as her world turns from pure sensation to white-hot ecstasy.

Likes, reblogs, and replies are appreciated, especially if somehow I fucked up post formatting or my French grammar LOL

[starry-hughes]

red, not blue

mat barzal x reader

summary: you wear someone else's jersey to mat's game

requested: yes!

warnings: implies sex, pouty/jealous mat, reader wears nico hischier's jersey

You weren’t doing it to spite Mat or anything. You were raised a Devils fan. It was in your blood to be a fan of New Jersey, even if your boyfriend was playing for the New York Islanders. Mat was a jealous type. Not a toxic jealous person, but he liked knowing that you were his. He had dealt with too many past girlfriends who used him for his status rather than his love. 

He knew you were a Devils fan. Jokingly banning you from wearing red on nights the Islanders were playing. Mat loved seeing you in his clothes and loved it even more when you wore his jersey with his name on the back. 

“What the hell are you wearing?” Mat questioned.

The Islanders were playing the Devils for the last time of the season. Mat had just returned from injury and had missed a lot of games, and he was excited to get back to playing. Your parents were in town for the game and were wearing Devils jerseys themselves despite their future son-in-law playing for the opposing team. 

You were going to the rink early with Mat. A frown presented itself on your face, “My jersey?”

Mat had given you more than enough jerseys over the years that the two of you were together. Mat scowled at the red jersey and even more at the last name on your back that wasn’t his. “The guys are going to chirp the hell out of me,” Mat mumbled as the two of you left the apartment. 

“My parents are wearing Devils jerseys too,” you explained, “you know my parents are diehard Devs fans.” 

Mat messed with the cuffs of his suit as the two of you stepped into the elevator, “I just thought my own girlfriend would wear my jersey. Not another team’s captain’s jersey.” Mat crossed his arms at the sight of Nico Hischier’s last name plastered on your back. It was an even bigger kick in the stomach when Mat and Nico shared the number thirteen. 

He shouldn’t have been playing an aggressive game, but Mat was angry. Looking up in the box where you and your parents were, seeing red, literally. He was playing aggressively, even taking a penalty, and shooting at the net whenever the puck was in his possession. The anger worked. Mat Barzal ended the night with a hat trick. You were excited for your boyfriend as he was named the first star of the game. Your parents, you, and Mat went out for a late dinner after the game. Mat, even though he was still living off the high of his good night, was still a bit jealous that you weren’t wearing his jersey. 

“Well, Mat,” your dad started, “looks like we will have to invest in Islanders jerseys soon.” After dinner, your parents went back to their hotel for the night, leaving early the next morning. Mat and you returned to your apartment late. He was still brooding over the fact you wore another team’s jersey, “I’m going to shower.” 

You nodded, putting his puck that was saved from tonight with the rest of Mat’s pucks from his hockey career. Mat showered, hoping that when he exited, you would have changed, but you had gotten busy with cleaning up the apartment and getting Mat’s stuff ready for his short road trip that was coming up. 

Groaning when he entered the room, he was making his way over to you, hands falling to your hips. “Please, take the jersey off. I can’t stand the sight of the red. This is my night,” he pouted. A playful smile grew on your face, “You jealous Barzy?”

Usually, he would never admit he was jealous, but tonight was different. “Yes! Yes, I’m jealous! My girlfriend is parading around in another man’s jersey, and it’s not my last name on your back! I got a hat trick! A hat trick, and you are still wearing red!”

You listened to his tantrum before pulling off the jersey, revealing the Islanders shirt you had been wearing underneath the Devils jersey the whole time. Mat’s name and number are plastered on the back of the t-shirt. Mat’s heart soared. “Y-you had that on the whole time?” he stuttered. 

“You didn’t think I wasn’t going to support you at all tonight, did you?” 

Mat squeezed your hips before picking you up, your legs quickly circling his torso as a squeal left your mouth. “God, I love you,” Mat confessed as his lips found yours. He blindly walked the two of you to the bedroom, his lips still on yours. 

In the morning, Mat woke up to you still wearing his Islanders shirt that he forced you to keep on last night. You were awake, tiredly scrolling through your phone, trying to ignore the soreness in your legs. Mat rolled over, kissing your shoulder softly but carefully enough not to make more marks on your body. “Morning baby,” his deep morning voice called out. 

You leaned over, kissing his head, before returning to your phone. 

He stood from the bed, walking over to the bathroom to brush his teeth. “Hey Maty!” you called out. “Yeah?” his toothbrush hanging out of his mouth. 

“I’m thinking of ordering a Jack Hughes jersey. What do you think?” you asked, a joking smile on your face.

[0bviouslyem1ly]

It's nice to see another fan of obey me in the agere community :) By chance could you do something with CG Lucifer? Moodboard or headcanons, whichever you're in the mood for I dont mind

Of course! I love the thought of him as a caregiver so much :D I'll make a moodboard too!

~

Caregiver Lucifer (Obey Me) headcanons!

•He's very strict, and likes to have rules. He mostly doesn't want you getting hurt, but his brothers cause so much trouble on a daily basis as it is, he doesn't wanna deal with too much more trouble. He'll make sure you don't get into anything, he'll make sure you eat/drink enough, have a bedtime/nap time schedule, and a daily schedule in general.

•In the room he works, he has an area set up for you in the corner. He has everything you like! He's got blankets and pillows, a play mat, plenty of toys and sensory items, stuffies, books, whatever you enjoy doing.

•Whenever he's working and you really want attention, he might let you sit on his lap while he works. He'll hold you and cradle you with one arm, and do paperwork with the other. He's used to multitasking.

•He's really good with kids, seeing as he raised 6 naughty little demons.

•He tries to keep up the "tough guy" and strict act, but it always fails. He has a huge soft spot for you, and loves to see you happy.

•He sings to you at bedtime, or if you're gonna take a nap. He will sing lullabies to you, and hold you as he does so.

•He likes when you lay on his chest.

•Lucifer doesn't really trust any of the others with you. He's super overprotective of you, but especially when you're regressed. You're in such a vulnerable state of mind, and he only wants you to be happy. The only person he trusts to babysit you would be Diavolo. He might trust one of his brothers, but he usually prefers Diavolo to take care of you.

•He didn't really know what age regression was. He had to do some research to figure out the exact meaning. But once he figured out, he went full dad-mode.

•He loves any nicknames you give him! He would be open to any nicknames, and would adore them all.

•If you like drinking from bottles, he'll hold you in his arms, rock you back and forth while feeding you a bottle. He may even hum or sing while doing this to help you relax and feel safe.

•He's like a big teddy bear. He lets you do whatever you want with him. Put stickers, makeup, marker, gems, ect on him. He'll let you, as long as it's easy to get off. His brothers would definitely tease him if they didn't come off easily.

•He bought you two one of those necklaces that you can put a picture inside. It's silver and has a little bat on it. He put a picture of you and him inside each of them so you can always be together.

•He will give you piggyback rides/carry you. He gives you full on royalty treatment.

•Lucifer likes tea parties and playing dress up. He loves letting you dress him up, and style outfits for him.

•He's always there for you if you regress, and will stop everything for you.

•If you get hurt, he will immediately rush to your side and check on you. He's very good at taking care of your wounds, and calming you down if you're hurt so he can clean them out.

•He gives the best and biggest hugs.

•He's actually pretty clingy. He always wants to be by your side, cuddling you up and giving you lots of love and affection. He just thinks you're the cutest thing, and wants to smother you with love.

•He has a very calming singing voice, and a very smooth voice in general. He'll often sing to you, whether it's silly songs from movies, or random beats and sounds.

•He is one of those caregivers who just look down at you, and coo about how cute you are. Huge baby talker.

[fairy-writes]

IM BACK!!! Here’s my second ask for your 900 followers!!

Could I get Douma x female reader with the dialogue prompt #17 please and thank you!!

Have free reign but FLUFFY!!!!!

ONE KISS LESS

Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!!

__________________________________________________________________________

Fandom(s): Demon Slayer

Pairing(s): Douma x Female!Demon!Reader

Prompt: “Will you let me fall in love with you?”

“Only if I can fall right back.”

“I’ll be sure to catch you when you do.” (Dialogue Prompt #17)

Notes: I have no clue if Douma is in character for this, but I’m trying anyway.

Some mild spoilers for Douma’s Blood Demon Art? But I don’t really go into detail, I only mention his weapon and what his ability does. 

I also stole the backstory of my kny character that I never published here (though I hadn’t figured out the pairing for that yet). 

__________________________________________________________________________

You were a peculiar character to Douma. Mostly because you never showed your face. 

You were a fellow demon, a low-level one. Though he learned it wasn’t because of any lack of talent on your part. On the contrary, you were quite powerful and had a myriad of clever and dirty tricks up your sleeve. You just never tried to get more power from Master Muzan. You were content to hide away in your little lair and eat whatever cocky demon slayer or regular human came by. 

The more he got to know you and your tricks, the more he decided he wanted you for his own.

So he started “conveniently” being in the area whenever you ventured out of your little house with pristine tatami mats and sliding doors. It wasn’t anything remarkable, just a small Japanese-style home with a koi pond just on the edge of the Engawa. 

He discovered you mostly left your house to get more food for your fish. A mask always hid your face and your scissors in the sleeve of your kimono in case anyone got handsy with you. 

Which he also discovered happened more often than he would like. But he very well couldn’t do anything about it unless he wanted you to catch him. And he didn’t want that. Not yet, at least. 

When you finally did manage to catch him in his games, you weren’t upset like he was expecting. You were curious. 

“What would Upper Moon Two want with someone like me?” You ask, voice muffled through the ceramic and paint of your okame mask. The rosy cheeks mocked him, and he yearned to just rip it off and look upon your features. But that would scare you off. And he didn’t want that. Despite loving the idea of fear coloring your eyes. 

He gets the chance to see your face when he watches you almost die. 

You were dodging a swipe from a young demon slayer’s sword glinting a light blue in the moonlight. Douma watched from the trees, rainbow eyes flicking this way and that as the two of you traded blows. The demon slayer—a young boy of seventeen or eighteen—had cuts littering his face from your scissor blades, and your kimono was soaked in your blood from already healed wounds. 

Your white hannya mask is almost blinding in the light of the silver moon. Douma knows it’s just a trick of the light under the stars. But it’s stunning regardless. 

He steps in when you’re pinned against a tree by the Nichirin sword through your shoulder. The demon slayer stands triumphantly before you as he draws a shorter sword from its sheath on his opposite hip. 

Just as the blade comes down to sever your head from your neck, Douma whips out one of his gold-plated fans and freezes the demon slayer with his Blood Demon Art. The ice coats the slayer from his head to his toes, and Douma can see the frostbite settling in from underneath the ice.

You stumble away from the tree, tearing the Nichirin blade from your shoulder where the wound was already healing. In the blast of his fan, the ice had torn the mask from your face and shattered it against the ground, exposing your features for the world to see.

Brutal scars slit your mouth from the corners of your lips to your ears. They’re jagged and puckered and colored a perpetual angry red as if you had just received them. But if he were to guess, you had received them long ago. Likely when you first became a demon by Akaza’s hand—a fact he learned long after you two became acquainted. 

You had first gotten your scars when your husband flew into a violent rage after learning you could not bear him children, claiming you had mothered a child with someone else and was refusing to give him an heir. 

You had killed him with a blow to the head. 

Soon after, Akaza had found you covered in the blood of your husband’s head wound.

Never before had Douma wanted to thank Akaza for anything. But now he wanted to thank him for letting him meet you. 

Your relationship was a carefully cultivated thing. One built on trust on your part and scheming on his. But nevertheless, you two grew closer than Douma had planned. Until one day…

“Will you let me fall in love with you?” You whisper, face close and nose brushing his own. If he moved at all, he would have kissed you. 

And so he did. 

Just lightly, gently, as if he wasn’t even there. You inhaled, surprised, but you didn’t pull away. You press closer, a hand coming up to touch his unblemished face. Your hand is soft, like a feather. And he loved it as much as a demon could. 

But Douma pulled away with a mischievous smile. 

“Only if I can fall right back.” He teased and delighted when you smiled. It was a bit twisted with your scars marring your face. It was beautiful nonetheless. 

“I’ll be sure to catch you when you do.” You breathe and lean in to kiss him again. 

He grins against your lips. A small smile that twisted his features. But you couldn’t tell. Not when you pulled away and hid your face in your hands in utter joy. 

Oh, the plans he had for you.

[erimeows]

Partnership

It’s warm as you and Seven sit on the roof of his house, watching the stars in the dark night sky.

When he thinks you aren’t paying attention to him, he does his best to memorize your face; (s/c) skin, (e/c) eyes, a kind smile, kissable lips. God, how he wishes he could kiss you. Briefly, the thought crosses his mind. He’s always loved making impulse decisions. Really, he could just reach over and press his lips against yours right now… But he knows he shouldn’t- for so many reasons.

First off, you don’t truly know him. You know that he has a dark past and that he’s a secret agent- you’re his ‘partner’ who he’s frequently paired with for missions that require more than one person. Still, you don’t truly understand his personal life, even though you frequent his house and spend time with him whenever the two of you don’t have much to do. Maybe… If you saw the person outside of the jokes, the hacking skills, and the fun nights spent speeding down empty roads after successful missions, you wouldn’t like him. Who would? That person- the one who he is when he’s sad and alone- is insecure, angry, and bitter. Someone as wonderful as you deserves better.

At least, that’s what Seven convinces himself. While he’s certain that you would reject him, the scariest part is what would happen if you didn’t. If you, another agent, fell in love and got into a relationship with him. What if you died? What if he died? What if his father or the agency came after you? It’s not worth the risk. You’re a dangerous, talented agent, but you’re not nearly as dangerous as Seven. 

So, he can’t pursue you, no matter how desperately he wants to do so. He trusts you more than anyone. That’s good enough. 

“Tell me a secret,” You say, turning your head to look over at the man. Your (h/l) (h/c) hair fans out beneath your head, and your gorgeous (e/c) eyes sparkle underneath the starlight. “A really good one.”

“I have lots of secrets,” Seven responds, turning to face you as well. Curiosity laces your face, but much like him, you remain careful- guarded. One hand remains in your pocket at most times, most likely gripping the handle of a weapon. “But none of them are good. You know what they say- no one can know about the pasts of cats and hackers.”

“They also say that superheroes tend to have tragic backstories. So, Mr. Defender of Justice, why don’t you tell me yours?”

“You really wanna know about my life? You swear you won’t tell a soul?”

“Of course.”

“Well, I’m the illegitimate son of the Prime Minister. Seriously, the guy’s been trying to kill me for years, it’s kind of embarrassing how bad of a job he’s done,” Seven explains rather casually, even offering a shrug when you shoot him a confused glance. “I have a twin brother who means the world to me, but I went into this line of work to support him escaping from our abusive mom… And, as I’m sure you know, because of the work we do, I can never see him again.”

You hum and sit up, placing your hands on the concrete of the roof. You reach down to touch Seven, and while he doesn’t stop you, he flinches. You caress his face, then run a gentle hand through his hair. He stops to wonder, has he ever been touched like this? Maybe, when he was little, he and Saeran would cuddle on the floor of the basement to stay warm during the winter- comb each other’s dirty hair out with their fingers to keep it from getting matted- hug each other before Seven went anywhere, just in case it was the last time, because with their father hunting them down and their mother hating their existence, ‘tomorrow’ and ‘later’ were never guaranteed. 

Seven pauses, his eyes fluttering shut. This relationship that the two of you have developed is far deeper than it should be for two coworkers who are strictly forbidden from developing attachments. Seven doesn’t even deserve to have what’s left of RFA, and now he has you, too? No- he shouldn’t let you get too close. At least, not any closer than you are now. Everyone around him always ends up miserable, hurt, or dead. 

“I hope you get to see your brother again,” You whisper.

“I think,” Seven pauses, allowing his eyes to flutter shut. “It’s best that I don’t. I’m not who I was back then.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

Seven opens his eyes to glance at you. You’re hovering over him slightly, your hand now resting against the side of his neck. He’s forced to push away the memories of his mother’s two hands wrapped around it, to compose himself instead of freaking out on instinct. 

“...I don’t know. Different isn’t always bad, but I’m a dangerous person. I want him to be safe.”

“Then… I hope he’s safe- always- if that’s what’ll make you happy.”

“Yeah. I hope so, too,” Seven smiles and pulls away from you to sit up. You rest your head on his shoulder. The smell of your shampoo- your perfume- your everything- floods his senses. He doesn’t stop you, even if he knows he should. “Hey, why don’t you tell me a secret?”

“I don’t really have any. I had a talent for this sort of thing… Did acrobatics for a while, learned how to hack, did some self defense classes and weapons training when I was young… A friend of a friend told me about the agency at a time I was desperate for money and I went ahead with it because I was bored with my life and wanted a fresh start; to be someone exciting, doing something meaningful,” You sigh. “Though, I was convinced by the friend of a friend that the agency was doing good work rather than… Well, rather than what we’re doing, but by the time I realized, I was already in far too deep. You know as well as I do what happens if we leave.”

Seven swallows. Neither of you have to say it- if you leave the agency, they keep sending the remaining agents after you until you’re dead and not a trace of you or your former life is left. Supposedly, they go after your loved ones, too. The agency shouldn’t know about Saeran, but now Seven has to worry about you and the RFA, too. If he or you ever wanted to leave, you’d have to do it together and in a way where no one could find you. You’d have to uproot your entire lives, go to a different country, and potentially even cut contact with all of your friends.

“Right.”

“It’s past midnight,” You stand up and stretch, looking at the stars one last time. “I should get going.”

Seven glances at his phone, only to see a barrage of notifications on the RFA messaging app. He thinks to convince you to stay the night- to sleep in his bed while he takes the couch so he can enjoy your presence for a little while longer- but the thought dies on his tongue at the sight of a new user on the notification bar.

MC has entered the chatroom.

…What the hell?

“Yeah,” Seven half-heartedly nods and rushes to open the messenger. The messages move so fast from the organization’s panic at an unauthorized user that he can barely read them. “See you later, (y/n). Text me when you get home safe.”

~

The next twenty four hours prove to be Seven’s personal hell. Whilst dealing with the chaos of MC joining the organization very suddenly, V’s peculiar reaction to the situation, Yoosung’s paranoia, and ‘Unknown’ trying to hack into both the messenger and Seven’s personal devices, Seven gets assigned a mission by the agency that he has to go on alone. 

Normally, the two of you have a system; Seven hacks into the place’s data bases to get their information, you go in and do what needs to be done- whether that be stealing something, gathering extra information, or even killing and kidnapping someone. It works beautifully, so when he was told that this was a situation delicate enough that he would have to do it all alone, he panicked.

The panic… Was for a good reason.

After finishing the mission, Seven is barely able to drive himself home. He considers calling Vanderwood for help before remembering that the man would only scold him and drag him back home to catch up on the hacking work he’s been neglecting lately. So, he drives through the late night- early morning- hell, he isn’t sure what time it is. All he’s sure of is that the wind is blowing through his blood-matted hair as it glides over the top of his convertible’s sunroof, and that he is incredibly dizzy when he arrives home.

He parks the car in his parking garage and forgets to close the damn thing before stumbling out and heading towards the door. He grumbles the passcode to the security system in Arabic and trudges in, only to nearly jump out of his skin when he sees you sitting on the living room couch.

And, for a moment, the two of you just stare at each other; Seven leaning against the doorway, you sitting on the couch, his golden eyes pouring into your (e/c) ones. There’s normally such a casual nature between the two of you. Seven hasn’t ever seen you upset, even, but as you stand up and march towards him, he can see the concern and anger on your face at seeing his injuries.

“Jesus Christ, what happened to you?” You question.

“(y/n),” Seven walks past you and into the living room, unable to meet your eyes for any longer. The house was a mess when he left with chip packets, soda cans, and dirty laundry strewn about, but now, it’s spotless. You must’ve cleaned it for him… He can’t help but feel guilty. “What are you doing here?”

“You haven’t messaged me in hours. Zen said you missed seven chat rooms in a row today,” You frown and walk towards Seven. Seven rolls his eyes at the thought of Zen ratting him out- coincidentally, the actor has been your workout buddy since Seven introduced the two of you, so of course he would tell you that the normally active Seven hasn’t been online all day. He’d be lying if he said he weren’t jealous of Zen, and especially of Zen’s friendship with you, but he’s never mentioned it. He doesn’t deserve you, after all. “I just thought I’d check on you… What happened?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Seven shakes his head and shrugs your hand off of him. Though he acts disgusted by your touch, emptiness wells up in his heart the second you clasp your hands together and stare down at the ground. “You should just go back to yours.”

“What? But no one else is here to take care of you-”

“I don’t want to be taken care of.”

“Seven, you look like shit,” You point out.

Seven shrugs again. Sure, his face is bruised, his hair and torn clothes are drenched in blood, he’s covered in sweat, and he has scrapes all over his body, but he’s seen worse. Being caught by the two guards and beaten to a pulp before securing the files and escaping is the least of what Seven has been through in his lifetime. As much as he would love to have someone around to care for him after the rougher missions like this one, he doesn’t feel as if it’s fair to subject some poor unfortunate person to being his safe haven- especially if that person is you. 

“I always look like shit.”

“I mean, maybe, but you’re usually not-” Seven coughs into his hand, effectively cutting you off as a streak of mixed spit and blood drips onto his palm. “Jesus, are you coughing up blood?”

“Nah, it’s not that bad. Just a busted lip… And I’m pretty sure a couple of my back teeth are loose,” Seven groans and sits down on the couch, wiping his palms on his dirty jeans. He’s definitely going to have to book a dental appointment soon to get his loose teeth fixed… Or maybe pulled out. Who knows. There’s a reason why you’re usually the one to do infiltration work while he’s behind the scenes on a computer; you’re much more graceful and subtle than he is, so you can get in and out of places without being caught- a skill that Seven has realized he doesn’t have. “No need to worry about it!”

Seven turns on his phone to see multiple missed chatrooms, just as you described. Even worse, the new member, MC, seems to be concerned that he’s been gone for so long. Seven quickly enters the chatroom and offers everyone a half-assed reassurance that he was just busy with work, along with some light-hearted jokes.

“What are you doing on your phone right now?” You demand, arms crossed over your chest. “Shouldn’t you be attending to- you know- this?”

Your arms are thrown up in a wild gesture to Seven’s battered body. For what must be the millionth time that night, he shrugs.

“I’ve gotta make a good impression on the new member, y’know? Don’t want her to worry too much about me- hell, none of the others really know what this work is like!”

“So you’re fine with me worrying about you, but not them?”

“(y/n),” Seven sighs, quickly excusing himself from the chatroom after finishing reassuring everyone that he was just ‘busy with work’ and that he’s ‘totally fine’. He blankly stares up at you. All along, he knew he shouldn’t have let you get so close, but… He’s a selfish man, and he can’t help himself. He does love you, but now, because he’s let you get this close to him, you’re concerned enough to waste your night on him. Maybe it was a mistake to be friends, rather than merely work partners like the two of you were instructed by the agency. “I never told you to worry about me.”

“We’re partners, Seven.”

“Yeah, we are. We’re partners at an agency that doesn’t care about us- an agency that explicitly told us not to get emotionally attached to each other to avoid situations like this! Why don’t you just leave like everyone else?”

“Why are you acting like this?” You question, clearly upset, but still somehow keeping your calm as you sit down next to Seven- perhaps too close. You don’t even seem bothered by the mix of his and other people’s blood, dirt, and dust that’s all over him. “Is it just because you’re hurt? You’ve never been this mean before- it’s like you’re a different person!”

“I’m not acting like a different person, it’s just that you never really knew me that well,” Seven admits. “I hid this side of myself for a reason, y’know…”

Tears well up in your eyes. A pang of guilt tears through Seven’s chest. Right as he considers reaching out for you, you turn your back to him. 

“So you’re telling me that every night we’ve spent together has been a lie?”

“No, it’s not-”

“If you’re going to do this, Seven, commit to it. Has it all been a lie or not? Because you’re making it sound like you’re a totally different person and that the version of you I’ve spent all this time with isn’t really you,” You turn around to look at Seven once more with tears in your eyes. Everything Seven has done to keep you at a distance has been to make sure that you’re safe. Now, though, it’s clear that he’s hurt you deeply with what he’s said. “But I don’t think you’re telling the truth. You’re pushing me away because you have your own problems… I get it, I’m not perfect either, but it’s not fair for you to assume that… That I don’t…”

“What?”

You swallow deeply, a blush on your cheeks.

“That I don’t want to be closer to you,” You finally admit, your voice barely even a whisper. Seven feels his face turn red as well. “That I don’t love you. Why else would I want to take care of you when you’re wounded? Why else would I be so worried that you disappear for a day at a time without saying anything? You think I just run around stargazing and caring for every other member of the agency I’ve been partnered with?”

“Well, no, but-” Seven argues, only for you to cut him off.

“But what? There’s no ‘buts’ here. I thought we’d made progress last night, and that I’d finally gotten you to open up… Seven, when you love someone, you don’t just want to see them at their best. You make me laugh, and you’re wonderful, but I want more than that. I want to take care of you when you’re hurt and when you’re sick, I want to be the shoulder you cry on… I want to hold your hand and make you feel better after a long day,” You start to stand up and head for the door. “If you don’t want that, though… I guess I understand. It’s my fault for getting my hopes up, considering our line of work. I’ll just leave-”

“Wait!” Seven objects, to which you look over at him again. A shocked expression takes over your face. He wants, more than anything, to tell you that he loves you, but the words seem to die on his tongue. He hasn’t said them in years. So, instead, he starts with- “Please… Take care of me. I want you to, too, and… I’ll cry on your shoulder, if I need to.”

You smile at that, then walk back over to where Seven is sitting and offer him your hand.

“C’mon. Let’s go to the bathroom and get you cleaned up, yeah? I’ll wash your hair.”

“Okay,” Seven agrees and takes your hand. You help him up, then guide him to his bathroom. “But only if I can wash yours, too, ‘kay?”

You laugh.

“Sure thing, Seven.”

~

Later that night, the two of you are in Seven’s bed, lying side by side. You both smell of his bubblegum shampoo and soap, and though he misses the smell of yours that normally lingers on you, he’s relieved that the two of you are finally settled after the night you’ve had. His bruises have been iced, his cuts are bandaged, and your warmth envelops his body as you rest your head on his chest and curl into his side.

“Thanks for fixing me up and keeping me company, (y/n). I really don’t deserve it after how I acted earlier… I’m sorry,” Seven apologizes as he reaches over for the nightstand lamp. 

While the two of you didn’t discuss it, he assumes you’re staying the night- or, he hopes you are, at least. 

“It’s no problem. Even superheroes need a little help sometimes,” You chuckle and press a kiss against the exposed skin of Seven’s shoulder. “Seven…”

“Hey,” Seven nuzzles into your hair and kisses the top of your head. “My name is Saeyoung, so you can call me that when we’re alone.”

“Okay, then, Saeyoung. Is that all you have to say? Because I think there’s something else you’re forgetting to tell me.”

“No, um… Well, I don’t say these words often, so it’s taking me a lot of courage to say them, but I love you, (y/n).”

“I love you too,” You respond and pull the blankets tightly around the two of you before settling against Saeyoung. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, (y/n).”

[flyingwargle]

flufftober day 8: chopping and piling wood

akaashi isn't the biggest fan of camping, but he does appreciate the outdoors. it's because of his indifference that lets bokuto bring him camping when their schedules allow it, and the weather isn't too hot. they camp alone most of the time, but whenever their schedules align, kuroo and kenma join in for double the fun.

the campground is quiet. akaashi and kenma set up the tent, bokuto and kuroo assembling the rest of their campsite. their site comes with a campfire pit, and judging by the wood still in the trunk, they're going to have a huge fire tonight.

"ugh. i'm tired already." kenma rocks back onto his heels after hammering the last peg into the ground. akaashi reaches over to unzip the front door so he can move their backpacks inside.

"i didn't think you'd come along." the last time they camped altogether was in high school, after bokuto got his license. kenma got an allergic reaction from a bug bite and swore to never camp again, unless they were staying in a cabin.

kenma sighs, straightening up. "i didn't want to, but kuro bought equipment for me and i don't want to go to waste." camping is surprisingly expensive, which is why akaashi considers himself lucky that he can borrow from someone else.

they crawl into the tent to spread the mats and sleeping bags, listening to their partners gossip about various volleyball players, complain about new tournament rules, and gush about recent dates. "did you know that they're competing to see who'll propose first?" kenma asks.

"my bet is on kou."

"same. i don't want to get married, so if kuro ever asks, i'm going to say no."

"i can hear you, kitten!" kuroo shouts. "must you hurt me like that?"

"what about me, keiji?" bokuto yells over him. "would you say yes if i propose?"

"yes," akaashi answers. "bold of you to assume that i won't propose first."

"no, keiji! you can't propose until i propose!"

"that's not how it works, idiot!" there's a loud slap, followed by bokuto's indignant yelp and footsteps scuffing against the ground. akaashi and kenma roll their eyes.

afterwards, they sit on lawn chairs and watch kuroo and bokuto move the wood from the trunk to the small space beside the pit. bokuto has an axe in hand, kuroo with a hatchet, mirrored smirks on their faces. normally, akaashi wouldn’t trust his partner with anything larger than a vacuum cleaner, but things are different when they’re outside. he doesn’t know how either of them learned to use either tool, but it’s better than him or kenma.

“i can make shavings,” akaashi offers, taking the pocketknife out from his jacket.

“thanks, keiji! we’ll get some sticks for you soon.” bokuto hefts the axe over his shoulder, saluting with his other hand. kuroo lays a tarp on the ground, the stump used for chopping, and then they start.

let it be known that akaashi’s gay awakening started when he watched bokuto soar through the air during his third year of junior high, blinded by his brilliance. it started as admiration, and as he caught glimpses of his bare chest while changing through high school, it turned into attraction, and then panic, and then acceptance.

which is why he can’t wrench his eyes away when bokuto places a log on top of the stump, takes aim, and raises the axe over his head to swing, arm muscles on full display under the early autumn afternoon. the log splits in half, and bokuto re-positions one half, moves the other aside to chop. he does it again, the satisfying crack echoing around them.

“you’re staring.”

akaashi glances at kenma, who has his knees up, tablet balanced on his knees. “i think i should be allowed to watch my boyfriend without judgment,” he replies. another crack fills the air, but not from the axe - this time, from the hatchet.

kuroo is chopping the smaller logs into sticks. his arm muscles ripple with every swing, eyes focused so he wouldn’t chop his fingers off. kenma watches, and it’s akaashi’s turn to call him out.

“we’re spoiled, aren’t we?” akaashi comments. kenma nods in agreement.

eventually, they’re put to work, with akaashi making shavings and kenma preparing curry for dinner. as daylight fades, they cradle their bowls and sit around the fire, flames licking the wood, embers spiraling upwards. bokuto shifts his chair closer to lean on akaashi, resting his head on his shoulder. “we need to get a two-man chair,” he mumbles. “how can we cuddle like this?”

“i brought a picnic blanket so we can sit on the ground,” akaashi offers.

“they took it.” he points to the other couple, chairs abandoned, kenma on kuroo’s lap on the blanket. “plus, a two-man chair would be so much cooler. who wants to sit on the ground?”

“not us, of course.”

“we can hear you,” kuroo calls out. bokuto sticks a tongue out, and in the fading light, akaashi sees kuroo flip him the bird.

night descends, occasional conversation stirring, but they mostly sit around the fire and watch the flames. akaashi reaches for bokuto’s hand, lithe fingers wrapped in his calloused grip. “thanks for bringing us out, kou,” akaashi murmurs.

“anything to spend the night with my favorite people in the world.” bokuto leans forward to kiss him.

“maybe we should invest in a two-man sleeping bag, too.”

“please don’t,” kenma calls out. “i won’t ever come if you do.”

“aw, kitten, maybe we should get a two-man sleeping bag,” kuroo says teasingly.

“i’d rather not. i put up with you kicking me in your sleep too much already.”

“kitten!”

their laughs join the embers in the air.

[fantasyismyonlyrealescape]

Sooo, how we feeling about that Raw, Tumblr folks? I kind of didn’t like the Smackdown ladies taking a lot of time away from the Raw women. But, it is what it is, Cody did the same thing tonight too.

@who-do-you-want-to-be and I are fighting the Miz. He is officially on my list and she’s been kind enough to join me.

But seriously though, come on, Miz. Like, Truth deserves so much better. Why are you actually listening to the Final Testament? They literally spout nonsense rhetoric, they are heeelllssss. You are better than that, Miz. Get it together. Make it up to Truth. You better.

Cody’s promo definitely disregarded Randy having his back last week, so that was very interesting. He literally said he had “no friends”. Soooo. Hmmm. Interesting.

Seth killed it as usual!! I’m hoping that he can get some more reps now that he’s back.

Iyo Sky and Kairi Sane are super cool! I never realized how fun they are to watch. I hope they get some more opportunities in the future. Didn’t like the NXT wrestlers interfering in that match, it wasn’t necessary.

Jimmy being there was such a bright spot!! Jey was completely justified with not wanting to talk to him though. It’ll be interesting to see where that goes.

And Jey’s spear of Bronnn. We love to see it!!

Seriously, somebody really needs to start hitting the mat whenever Bron goes for the spear. He’ll just fly past them and it would be hilarious. Sorry, not the biggest fan of him. ANYWHOOO.

Hope everyone enjoyed Raw!!